


How Not to Be Enough

by WastedOn



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Sassy Regina sasses all over the place
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-07-19 14:53:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7366084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WastedOn/pseuds/WastedOn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina has a hate problem. Emma has a magic problem. They solve their problems together. Snow is determined not to have a problem with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Buying festival candles would do a lot for your reputation, Regina. You never have before, people will take it as a sign you've changed. Also, look - apple flavor!"

Regina slammed the door in Snow's face.

A distant throbbing announced itself behind Regina's temples. Chances were promising that it would develop into a full blown migraine if Regina's evening turned out anything like the rest of this day had been.

For weeks since their return from Neverland, Snow White had been unusually silent in regards to Regina's reformation. Over the last month her little family unit of two had settled into a sort of routine.

Emma wasn't greedy with Henry's time and they had quickly come to a reasonable agreement on his care. Regina couldn't know for sure how a non-nincompoop could have been spawned from the royal jackasses, but she had an inkling that being sent to another dimension in a cupboard had something to do with it.

Regina had been sharing her son's time with Emma Swan without the Charmings' ignorant interference and for a while... it had been glorious.

The best day she'd had in years had been one memorable afternoon at Henry's tee-ball game which herself and Miss Swan had hesitantly agreed to attend together. They hadn't done much, merely sat stonily beside each other and cheered whenever Henry looked their way, however their son had been in a daze.

"It's so awesome that you're both here," he had said during a pause in the game, a grin permanently plastered to his face. "Seriously!"

It wasn't the most happy existence, but it was a step up from pitchforks and torches. She still found herself on the receiving end of glares and dark mutterings, that was true, but it was to be expected as the natural order of things. They'd ruined her life, she'd ruined theirs, and so on. And Henry... Henry was happy.

She had thus far resisted the temptation to blast them to smithereens. When she dropped Henry off at school, she gritted her teeth as other parents pointed her out as a real life example of stranger danger. When she tried to pay at the register for a new comic book and the cashier pretended not to see her, she simply left her money on the counter instead of turning him into a frog. _The things I do for you, my sweet boy,_ she would think to herself. Regina was a god damned martyr. Henry remained happy.

All happy things in Regina's life had to come to an end, however. It was a lesson she had learned time and time again ad infinitum.

The stalemate had fallen apart when Snow had started acting _nicely_.

Nauseatingly nice. At first when the dinner party invitations and baked goods deliveries and sickeningly sweet smiles began, Regina had assumed it was polite hate. An iron wall of sarcasm and ice-cold cordiality had always been a go-to for Regina, so it took her by surprise when she realized that Snow wasn't merely exploring new ways to demonstrate her vitriol.

It was good mornings and quirky waves from across the street. It was standing up for Regina in town hall meetings and giving pointed looks to anyone who spoke badly about the former Queen. It was less Snow White and more Mary Margaret. It made Regina want to vomit.

Regina wasn't buying what Snow was selling. Specifically, those stupid festival candles.

She slid the chain lock across the door and twisted the bolt in place with a sigh.

Snow's muffled voice filtered through the door. "I know you want to make an effort, Regina. One candle. For Henry."

"Ugh," Regina said and padded upstairs to bed.

No matter that it was six o'clock in the evening. Henry was with his birth mother tonight and she'd scrubbed the house a dozen times over since her return.

If she stayed awake too long without a distraction, she would find herself in a chilly room, holding a chilly body with Rumpelstiltskin bleeding in the corner.

_"Mother? Mother? What's wrong?"_

_"This," Cora said, smiling like it explained everything. It explained nothing. "This would have been enough."_

_"Mother?"_

_"You. You would have been enough."_

_"Mother? What's going on?"_

_Rumpelstiltskin wasn't dying in the corner anymore. He was leaning on his cane, lips pressed in a single firm line. Regina had never felt so cold._

_"Mother?" But it was just a body. The smiling woman was an unsmiling corpse._

_Regina couldn't breathe, she couldn't see, and she was so, so cold. "Don't leave me. Please."_

_She rocked and wept and mother didn't move._

The curtains in her bedroom were thrown wide open. Daylight still burned through the glass. She remembered when she'd tugged them open this morning, hating herself for not wanting to leave her bed.

Snow was walking uptown, shuffling slowly with her box of candles. The woman's shoulders were hunched.

Regina pulled the curtains shut and sighed in relief at the near-total darkness she was left with.

Regina shrugged off her evening wear and slipped out of her flats, tucking them neatly in their shoe rack while imagining how satisfying it would feel to slap Snow White in the face with one. She envisioned Snow's round cheeks reddening as the twit reeled in shock. Then Regina would resurrect Snow White's mother from the grave and run her over with the Mercedes.

She tucked her bare feet into silky sheets, shivering at the chill that ran up her thighs and tingled the tiny hairs on her arms. Regina exhaled at the coldness, closed her eyes and bid the day adieu.

Her cellphone buzzed on the nightstand. She glared at it in the dark. The screen was illuminated to indicate a text message from an unrecognized number. If Regina weren't a mother she would have gladly buried her head under the pillow. Instead she groaned and rolled next to her nightstand.

_having fam brkfst @grannys tomorrow if you want to come_

Unrecognized number her ass – she didn't need to recognize it. "Snow White," Regina hissed and whipped the phone across the room with a wail. It banged the back of her closet, tumbling into her shoe rack with a metallic clang.

Family breakfast? Regina would rather set her mansion ablaze and roast marshmallows in the flames.

At least in Neverland Snow had never put up an act. Whining and distrust from Snow was honest at the very least. Happy-go-lucky friendship Snow was agony with a pixie cut and a smile.

Vengeance was Regina's air. She'd suffocated for it as a child, gorged on it as a young woman and finely dined on it in Storybrooke. Only revenge wasn't so easy anymore. Regina was forced to resist temptation for Henry's sake – the only person who had ever needed her. He needed stability and a mother and Regina would strive to provide the best environment for him to grow up in. If that meant not physically strangling the life out of dumb and dumber, so be it. She could make that sacrifice.

Regina's helplessness, though – that was what made this situation disgraceful. Snow knew she could do as she whimmed with the woman whose mother she'd murdered and she had chosen to rub it in Regina's face. Snow might as well have been pretending it never happened, and what was worse – Snow White had the gall to think that Regina would go along with it.

Regina may have only had a true mother – a mother with a heart – for ten seconds, but those seconds had been bright and full of wonder.

It was a disgrace to Cora's memory. It was _shitting_ all over the miraculous ten seconds when Regina had felt what it was like to have a mother with a heart – one who smiled and loved her daughter, one who thought her daughter was enough.

That was perfectly fine. Regina would find a way to fix her attitude. Not all vengeance was blood and tragedy. She needed to get her creative juices back in order. Regina decided to sleep on it.

Regina re-bundled herself in the comforter and closed her eyes.

Her skin pricked into goosebumps – she wasn't in the dark. She was in the chilly room again.

A body was in her arms with a slack jaw and glassy expression.

Her eyes snapped open. She picked at the edge of her bed dressing and pinched herself to stay awake. She pinched herself the rest of the night.

Once Upon a Time

The next morning Regina discovered an apple-scented candle on her doorstep. There was a card attached. Regina didn't read it. She threw it at the wall and set it on fire.

Twenty minutes later, a freshly-dressed Regina entered Granny's and – upon confirming that Henry was not missing school for the so-called "family breakfast" – swanned past the Charmings' table with her head held high. She was sure she caught Snow waving like a hyper chipmunk out of the corner of her eye. Regina ignored her and slid into a booth on the opposite side of the diner.

Over eggs and coffee Regina spent the rest of her breakfast glaring over the top of her newspaper. The lovebirds held hands under the table the entire time. Regina drained three coffees in an effort to zap her nerves to life after a sleepless night. Snow White could take the blame for that too.

Regina spent so much time on the happy couple that she didn't focus on Charming Junior until she was ready to leave. Regina was by the counter pulling out bills to pay the check when her ears pricked at the sound of her own name.

"...rather Regina than another disaster."

"Emma, you know how she can be," Snow protested. "I know she's trying to improve but she's unpredictable, you know that."

"At this point my options are her and someone colloquially known as 'the dark one.' Call me crazy but I think it's worth a shot."

"Maybe you can learn to control it on your own," David interjected with a shrug. "I mean you haven't blown anything up yet. That's a good sign, right?"

"Not yet," Emma intoned, glancing askance at Regina's (now empty) table.

Regina looked quickly away and adopted an uninterested expression.

"Perhaps I'm not giving Regina enough credit," Snow began thoughtfully. "It could be good for her. She could use a project, a chance to show us she's reforming. And it would keep her mind busy."

Regina groaned internally. S _omeone put me out of my misery. Anyone._ Regina could feel her peppy aura pulsing from here. Hate boiled in the pit of her stomach. She strutted out of the diner and let the door slam behind her.

Brisk morning air poured deep into her lungs. _In and out. In and out._ Regina counted up to ten and then counted back to one. The hot bubbling hate in her stomach dropped to a simmer. It would return with bloody vengeance but for now Regina was in control.

The madness had to stop. Regina was trying, truly she was. Saint Mary Margaret, however, was making it impossible. Regina wouldn't forgive that monster if it was the last thing she did. She couldn't – even if she wanted to, which she most certainly did not.

_"You would have been enough..."_

She was known as the Evil Queen. Surely she could scheme her way into making Snow White leave her the hell alone without losing Henry simultaneously. That was the trouble though, wasn't it? Her son wanted – no, needed her to be good.

Regina slid into the driver's seat of her Mercedes and twisted the key. The engine purred to life.

She exhaled a calming breath, letting her forehead rest on the steering wheel. "I cannot possibly be considering..." But she was. She was actually, actively brainstorming how to turn Snow White against her. Was this not why her life with Henry was a train wreck? Because she could not let sleeping dogs lie? Because she was never satisfied?

Regina decided to consider it – hypothetically. If she considered it hypothetically, surely would become obvious that re-igniting the feud between them would be the worst possible scenario.

 _Suppose I strangle one of her stupid little friends_ , she thought as she adjusted the air conditioning. Murdering someone she loved was the most immediate solution, which would be easy since Snow loved almost everyone. Henry wouldn't like murder, obviously. It was out of the question. Regina was only considering the option from wishful thinking, really.

Arson was a bloodless option and hard to prove, but Henry would suspect her immediately if Snow's tiny apartment went up in a blaze of satisfying glory. Regina's love of fire as a destructive force was too well known.

The jealousy factor was tried and true in most cases, Regina thought, now fully getting into the spirit of things – but true love was a bitch. Not that she could stomach the idea of seducing the goodie-two-shoes prince in any case, and neither would Henry look too kindly on that notion either.

Was there anything that her son would approve of that Snow would hate? That was besides allowing him to stay up late and eat junk food. That was not happening any time this century.

Good was hard.

_Tap-tap-tap._

Regina startled. Emma Swan grimaced at her through the driver's side window, making a rolling motion with her hand. Regina placed one polished fingernail on the switch with a sigh.

The moment the glass descended Regina cut her off. "If this is about magic lessons, you should be asking the Blue Fairy."

"Blue Fairy?" Emma's eyebrows shoot up. "Yeah, I thought you overheard some of our conversation. Seriously? But I thought all she knew was fairy stuff."

How Regina hated explaining herself.

"She may not have much experience with human magic, but she's surely had to learn since she's been here. Don't ask me. It's for the best to have as much space between your mother and I as possible. Especially lately."

"Yeah." Emma tugged distractedly on the front of her leather jacket, darting a glance back at the diner. "I really don't get why that's happening. I'm sorry."

Regina leaned out the window to follow her gaze. David and Snow were parked down the street in the former's beat-up truck. Snow was biting her lip as she studied their conversation from a distance. Regina could taste the anxiety rolling from the truck, bitter on the tip of her tongue.

_"I don't want my daughter around a murderer who is infamous for hurting our family."_

_"It's so awesome that you're both here!"_

_"You would have been enough..."_

Regina was handling this all wrong.

A pathway connected in her brain with a satisfying jolt. She nearly moaned when she felt it.

Regina had felt it dozens of times before, but always as the Evil Queen. It had meant the crushing of her enemies.

It was the pool of boiling hate in her stomach emanating to warm her from her cheeks to her curling toes.

"Hey, I don't suppose you have any tips for -"

"Get in the car," Regina breathed. Her eyes didn't leave David's truck for a millisecond.

Emma stuffed her hands into her pockets uncertainly.

Regina did her best to project an aura of innocence. She patted the passenger's seat in what she hoped was a non-predatory manner. Snow's mouth moued in suspicion as Emma rounded the front of the car.

"Hey," Emma said as she pulled the door shut. "So."

Regina decided on the spot that Emma was a woman who would appreciate a direct approach. "Miss Swan, what are you doing Friday night?"

"Uh, nothing? Probably?"

"I would like to invite you to dinner. Friday, seven o'clock. Say yes."

Emma's eyebrows shot up. Regina smiled winningly.

"Because...?" Emma trailed off.

"I would like to pursue a relationship," Regina finished for her.

Emma pursed her lips. She glanced around the interior of the car like it was hiding something from her. "You mean... romantically?"

"Hypothetically. For now let's go with a series of dates and work from there, Miss Swan. Emma."

Emma was staring. Regina tried another wide smile. The only effect it had, if anything, was to make Emma press her back into the door.

What did these goody types require? A song and dance?

"I, uh... wow." Emma shook her head, making Regina's eyes narrow. "I... thank you, for thinking of me, but –"

She could see the denial railing towards her like a freight train. "Give me one good reason why not. Dinner with me. Friday." She wouldn't say please. Never.

Emma rubbed the front of her jeans. "I just don't think it's a good idea."

Regina's smile threatened to crack. "You and I make a good team –"

"Come on Regina, don't make me say it." Emma's hand curled around the door release. "I'm gonna go."

"Say _what_ exactly?" Regina practically hissed. The temperature of the car plummeted to subzero.

Emma fell silent for a long moment. The engine thrummed and a distant store bell clanged as a gaggle of citizens entered Granny's. "This town has spent years telling me you're out to kill me." She chewed her lip, watching as more people funneled out of the restaurant. The people were carrying take-away boxes and laughing. "I know it's not true – anymore – but... I mean, if you think I'm going to go along with one of your plots– "

"How dare you?" Regina's eyes flashed as she lied through her teeth. "Desiring human connection is not a plot. I can't ask you to dinner? Is that so wrong?"

Emma stared her down. "No, I just know bullshit when I see it."

"Get out of my car," Regina growled.

"I don't mean – you shouldn't –"

"Get. Out."

"Fine. Have it your way." Emma jumped out and slammed the door, then flipped the bird at her through the window.

Regina's chest heaved as Emma's reflection in the rearview mirror stomped to her yellow bug.

Never mind that she had just been called out on falling back on her usual devices. She was disappointed at her initial failure but that was fine. Just fine. Regina knew how the game worked.

She threw her car into reverse. Her veins surged with anger at the rejection. She felt challenged. She felt alive.

Once Upon a Time

Regina guided the eyeliner pencil down in a final sweep. She gave one last glance at the mirror and nodded to herself in approval. Just enough make-up to keep the smoky eye effect without seeming like she was actually wearing make-up.

Her cardigan, trousers and loose hair combination ingeniously blended classy royalty with down-to-earth mother. Perfect.

She practiced her 'good' smile, channeling the impulse that came naturally when she was around Henry. The resulting display of teeth rang false. Perhaps she would limit her smiles around Emma. Emma was a lie detector on steroids, after all.

Was Regina fooling herself? Or worse, making a fool of herself by pursuing Emma Swan only to be rejected over and over? If Snow White heard about the rejection, she would pity her more and Regina would tear her own hair out.

Regina grabbed a pen and notepad. She wrote _Things in Common with Miss Swan_ at the top. She easily filled number one on the list: Henry. She paused at number two. She hesitated to put magic – Emma seemed more burdened by magic than invested in it. Still, it was something in common. She filled it in.

Regina stood barefoot in her bathroom for twenty minutes thinking of number three. She couldn't come up with anything. She tossed down the pen. To hell with it. Two was enough.

Regina made it halfway down the staircase before the expected rapping on her door. Her son's muffled voice made an indistinct complaint before the door swung open of its own accord.

"Mom!" Two sneakers flung one-by-one into a pile of boys' shoes. An overstuffed backpack followed them. "What's for dinner?"

"Good evening to you too, Henry. Good evening, Miss Swan."

Emma held back at the welcome mat and shoved her hands in her pockets. "Hey, Regina. See you later, kid."

"Bye mom." Henry waved at Emma. He was darting into the kitchen before Regina could blink. Emma managed a courtesy nod to Regina without making eye contact.

"Miss Swan, don't leave just yet. I would like to apologize for my behavior this morning."

"Uh, yeah?" Emma scrutinized her. Regina resisted the instinct to shift her pose into something more provocative. Tact was the order of the day and Regina had been raised with it in spades. It was one of the few gifts she could thank her mother for.

"Thanks," Emma said eventually, apparently deeming Regina appropriately contrite. "Apology accepted then. I'm sorry too for what it's worth. I could have been less, uh..." Her lips twisted. "Catty?"

"Insolent?" Regina said at the same time.

Regina scolded herself, immediately detecting the bitterness that had seeped through her tone of voice. _You're_ _remorseful, remember, you idiot? Not hostile. Follow the plan_.

Emma's hands slipped out of their hiding place in her jeans pockets, like she had been waiting for Regina to slip in order to relax. Emma exhaled slowly, slouching against the doorframe. "Yeah, something like that," she said with a halfhearted smile.

"Well don't be sorry, dear," Regina waved it off as if it were of little consequence, "you were right all along, weren't you? I was doing a bit of plotting, I suppose, although not as drastic as you likely thought it was."

Emma did a quick Henry proximity check. The television had been turned on and was leaking sound from the sitting room. "What sort of plotting are we talking about here?"

"The type where I date you and rub it in Snow White's face," Regina said. "Where she stops giving me that smug smile every time she looks in my direction. And there are other benefits. Admittedly you're nice to look at, and you're Henry's birth mother and he could do with seeing us getting along. I respect you as a person...mostly. All these factors just so happen to make you wildly convenient."

"Wildly..." Emma trailed off, eyebrows smushing together. Her eyebrows were quite lovely when she wasn't glaring judgingly at other people. Very sharp-looking, Regina decided.

Regina thought of Henry's joy at the tee-ball game they had both attended. Even if it were only one date, surely their ability to get along would improve. The chance to tongue Snow White's daughter in front of her was also fiercely appealing.

"Therefore I would still like to invite you to dinner on Friday night," Regina concluded. "I remember you mentioning wanting a magic tutor, I can help with that. It all works out."

"That's very, um, logical of you." Emma bit her lip. "Serious?"

Regina didn't know whether to be surprised or offended. She settled on both. "Yes. Of course I'm serious."

Emma shook her head like she was trying to shake something out of it. "It's just, I mean you make it sound like a business transaction."

"Because that's what it is," said Regina as if she were explaining it to a child. Patience was a virtue after all. "We both exchange services in order to get something we want."

Emma's eyes narrowed like a hawk's and Regina suddenly felt like she had said exactly the wrong thing.

"News flash, Regina. I can't believe I need to say this, but I don't go out with people because I want them to teach me magic, or fix my car, or perform any other random task I need done. Actually, I'm pretty offended by it."

Regina held back a scathing retort as Emma bit her bottom lip.

"I see," she said through gritted teeth. "Of course we can break off our engagement once Snow White has been sufficiently angered if it so pleases you."

Regina wasn't being exactly honest, but perhaps the guarantee of a way out would satisfy Emma's anxieties.

" _Engagement_?"

"I meant relationship," Regina corrected hastily, cursing her old-fashioned vocabulary. "Miss Swan? What's wrong?"

Emma was doubled over, clutching her stomach. "I'm going to be sick."

An invisible pulse rippled the curtains, fluttered Regina's hair. Regina's skin pricked up in a thousand tiny shivers. Electric pulses were skittering through every nerve in her body. Her pulse accelerated at the unmistakable surge of raw power.

Magic. It was overflowing.

Regina lurched forward just as Emma dropped, catching her under the arms with a huff.

"Sit down, slowly, slowly," Regina said as she guided Emma to the floor. Emma gave a pained whimper. She curled into a ball the second she hit the carpet. Regina shoved Henry's shoes out of the way in order to sit beside her. "Tell me exactly what you're feeling right now."

"Like a forty watt light bulb plugged into a million watt socket. Fuck! This keeps happening."

Regina pressed the back of her hand onto Emma's forehead. The skin was burning. She grabbed Emma's wrist – Emma tugged it away.

"Miss Swan," Regina said as she grabbed it again. "Hold still."

"Does it look like I'm moving to you?" Emma said through gritted teeth.

Regina aligned their forearms wrist to wrist, palm to palm. Their fingers interlocked, Emma squeezing like she was dangling off a cliff. Regina tried to ignore the numbness spreading through her fingertips from the lack of blood. "I'll help regulate the flow of magic into your body. Take deep breathes. And don't pull your arm away from mine."

"Deep breathes. Right." Emma inhaled and exhaled forcefully.

Regina hissed as she allowed the dam to break, opening herself to the rush of unadulterated power flooding from Emma's body.

Emma's magic seethed and scorched through Regina's veins, frothing from Emma like a pot left to boil over. Her eyes fluttered but she fought to keep them open. It hurt, yes – it scalded Regina's insides – yet as with all magic, the power intoxicated her.

Emma's breathing evened. Her death grip relaxed. Blood returned to the tips of Regina's fingers.

"Better?" Regina raised an eyebrow.

"Some, yeah," Emma said. "What are you doing?"

"Draining your magic. You're unsafe right now. You should have found someone much earlier if it was getting this bad."

"Had I known it was an option, believe me, I would have."

"We're like symbiotes," Regina explained, quite helpfully she thought. "Look at us. Working together in cohesion. Mutually beneficial."

"Is that the only reason you're helping me?" Emma bit her lower lip. "Look, I know for a fact this will go away on its own if I let it run its course."

"You could, but it wouldn't be safe. No, please." Regina held tight to Emma as she tried to wrench her wrist away. "What does it take? There must be something," Regina pressed. "Time with Henry? That wouldn't be a problem."

"I don't need your scheme, Regina, and neither do you if we're being honest. And it doesn't matter anyway," Emma stressed, "because – no, I don't need a 'because,' because the reasons should be obvious. I'm not getting into a freaky revenge relationship with you. I'm not faking a relationship with you. Thank you for the application, I will keep it on file."

"You could move into the mansion. Bring Henry with you." Regina took care to make it sound like she were giving something up and absolutely not benefitting her plans further.

Emma's head lolled onto the wall, eyes screwing shut. "Alright, you are seriously missing the point."

Regina's facade of civility broke.

"No, I think I understand just fine. Love is the word you're dancing around, am I correct in assuming that? True love," Regina spat out those two disgusting words. "That's what you're looking for?"

Emma couldn't have looked more confused had she tried. "Yeah, so? My parents have it, half of everyone around here does."

"I am being honest and upfront, which you should appreciate: I am not capable of that," she said flatly. "In all likelihood, neither are you. Not in this world. The fairy tale you're holding out for is simply not possible. You grew up in a land without magic, and that includes true love. Your parents screwed you out of that when they sent you into another dimension in a cabinet, and as for mine, _your mother_ gave a death sentence the only person who ever loved me like that, not to – not to mention my–"

Sweet, sweet Daniel and now her sweet, ten second mother. Thoughts of Cora made Regina's rant tumble to a halt.

Emma's mouth tightened. She opened her eyes to meet Regina's gaze – Regina looked at the floor. "I'm sorry she's gone. I would have stopped it if I could."

The anger fled Regina like shadows after flicking a light switch. Her breathe caught. She wanted to hate Emma for being so good that her first thoughts were for another's misery.

Emma was sorry. Goodness help her, but Regina believed her.

The flow of magic decreased to a steady ebb. Emma didn't ask how much longer it would be, she merely gifted Regina with her silence. Regina followed suit.

They sat on the floor side-by-side, hand-in-hand next to Henry's shoes listening to the cartoonish dialogue wafting from the living room. One episode ended and another started. Commercials for outrageously expensive toys came and went.

Emma spent the time with her eyes squeezed shut and her head against the wall. Bored and put out, Regina spent long moments studying her still form, wondered what she was thinking. Probably how to avoid spending time around Regina ever again.

Perhaps it had been a childish endeavor. Still, she couldn't help but think that she had come up with a clever plan to solve her problems where no one gets hurt and every party benefits... did anyone want to go along with it? Of course not.

So Emma would not cooperate, so what? She would think of a different way to approach Emma. If that failed her, she would devise a new plan.

Another plan that didn't negatively influence Henry while provoking Snow White's rage. Easy.

It was juvenile to wallow in the unfairness of the situation, but now that Regina couldn't do something as simple as slap Snow in retaliation, she was helpless. She felt as impotent as when her mother had smiled sweetly, sold her to King Leopold and leeched the rewards.

Regina's knuckles turned white.

"Holy shit, what happened to your carpet?" Emma interjected into her thoughts. She motioned to a pool of congealed wax and blackened carpet next to the entrance table.

"Oh, that." She'd nearly forgotten about that annoyance. She didn't know if she'd be able to restore the carpet, even with magic. "Your dear mother left a candle on my doorstep. A gift for me. I can't say I read the card."

Emma crossed her legs and grazed her teeth along her bottom lip. "Yeah. About that. I told her to back off today."

"That's... out of character for you," Regina managed to say, struggling to conceal her shock.

Emma shrugged and gave a tiny grimace. "So was you asking me out. Very twilight zone. Seemed like I should do something."

"She will discontinue contact with me?" Regina was almost sorry.

It would be worth it, though, for a small amount of sanity. Regina needed to sleep again. She wanted to remember her mother in peace, not wallow in the same miserable rut she'd been trapped in since Cora's murder.

"I may have made it worse," Emma said with a cringe. "She accused me of not trying hard enough to mend the bad blood between our families. She was more fanatical when I left her than when I came to her."

Not trying hard enough? Regina wanted to bite out all the things Snow hadn't done. Apologize for murdering her mother, for one. Show a hint of remorse for getting her sweet Daniel killed, for two. Say that she was sorry for a single act.

"Oh. I... you attempted to help, at any rate, Miss Swan. I'm grateful for that," Regina said, the words leaving her tongue like an awkward foreign language.

"It's not like her. Maybe like Mary Margaret, but definitely not like the real her." Emma paused, searching Regina's face. "You don't think...?"

Regina almost pitied her for jumping to that conclusion. Almost. "I don't think your mother is under a spell, unless we're counting the spell of her own naivety."

"Yeah." Her shoulders sagged. "I think I kind of knew that."

"For all the effort she has made, she has not said that she is sorry," Regina added quietly. "No regrets. Plowing forward. It seems exactly like Snow White to me."

Emma didn't say anything to that.

The background noise altered as Henry flipped through the channels in the other room. He must have settled on something low key, because Regina could barely hear it. Knowing him, she would probably discover him passed out under a throw pillow.

The magic flowing from Emma was barely a trickle now.

"The more the Blue Fairy teaches you," Regina said, "the better you will become at controlling your outbursts. Practice and time is all you need. You should be fine for the next few days. Ask her to do this when it gets to be too much, until you're able to control yourself. It's the first rule of magic: all magic has to go somewhere."

"I'm so not looking forward to lessons with her. You have no idea how aggravating that woman is to be around."

"I have some idea."

"I feel..." Emma paused, searching for a word. "Balanced. Less like I'm about to puke my guts out, anyway. Thank you."

"See?" Regina held up their conjoined hands. "Mutually beneficial."

Emma's resulting stare was inscrutable. "Apparently," she said finally.

Regina untwined her fingers, pulling her wrist away from Emma's. The connection broke with a zap of static shock from their clothes rubbing together. Regina rose gracefully to her feet while Emma struggled. She toed the pool of hardened wax with a sigh. No, she would have to replace the carpet.

Emma opened the front door. Crickets chirped from the front lawn.

"Goodnight, Miss Swan."

Distantly she heard Henry switch television switch off. It may have been him that declawed her in this situation but she didn't consider him a burden. If anything, Henry had made her realize how tired she was. Revenge tired her. Being kind tired her. Tolerating Snow White utterly exhausted her.

_"You would have been enough..."_

Regina didn't believe that for one second.

That didn't mean she wouldn't remember the only words her true mother had given her.

She was determined to act as a mother should. She would be a tired mother but a present one. Henry could not doubt her love any longer.

She needed another approach. Was it even possible at this point? Had she played her hand too early?

A nippy breeze pulled Regina from her thoughts. How long had she been staring at the carpet? She glanced up.

Emma Swan leaned in the doorway, thumbs hitched in jean pockets.

Regina's cheeks burned. "What?"

"I'm realizing that this is the first time you've had a plan that didn't involve death and destruction. Maybe I should be more supportive."

Regina pursed her lips. "Is that so?"

Emma rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Right. Yeah." A long breathe escaped her with force. Emma's gaze darted to the door like she would rather be sprinting out of it. "What time did you say? Eight?"

Henry wandered aimlessly into the room with a half-eaten orange in his hand. "Emma!" he said through a mouthful of orange. "You're still here."

Emma flashed him a smile. "Just leaving, kid."

"Seven o'clock," Regina corrected, hardly daring to believe it. "Friday."

"What's at seven o'clock on Friday?" Henry asked, face scrunching up. It was the same scrunched expression that Emma made sometimes.

"Ask your mom, kid," Emma said. "Night, little man."

"Goodnight," Henry chirped.

After the door clicked shut, Regina pressed her eye to the peephole. Emma was trudging to her bug, hands stuffed in her pockets. She opened her car door slowly, gingerly sliding into the driver's seat. Still fatigued from the sudden outburst of magic, Regina surmised.

Did Emma pity her? Is that why she had agreed to compromise her revered standards?

Regina didn't care in the slightest. Things were going her way. She'd almost forgotten what satisfaction felt like.

Once Upon a Time

Regina floated for the rest of the night. She played Scrabble with Henry and taught him four new words. She read a novel next to Henry as he read a comic. She received a text from Snow asking if she'd like to contribute to a bake sale. Regina responded with a smiley face. She hoped it disturbed Snow White to no end.

Her high didn't fade until after Henry had gone to brush his teeth and she was changing for bed. The familiar fear of the cold room, her mother's limp body and glassy eyes hovered over her. Ignoring it, she fantasized about the peaceful sleep she would have after Snow White was raging against her. Even if it came down to Snow agreeing to cease communications if Regina ended her romantic relationship with Emma, it would buy her peace.

Emma. The woman who was compromising her standards for her.

When Regina had informed Emma of her incapacity for true love, Emma hadn't disagreed. Emma hadn't agreed either. She'd said she was sorry Regina's mother had died.

Regina couldn't recall anyone saying they were sorry for Cora's death. Not Gold nor Hook, Cora's once fair-weather allies. Not Snow, even in the middle of the woman's guilt-driven histrionics. No one.

When she was washing the make-up from her skin she noticed the pen and notepad on the sink. She added number three to the _Things in Common with Miss Swan_ list: sorry that Cora Mills died.

It wasn't until after she'd tucked Henry into bed and was cocooned in her own blankets that she realized it was the first time she'd asked someone on a date. She hadn't done half bad.

The longer she dwelled on Emma, the more she realized that the princess was an elegant solution to nearly all her problems.

She had slipped when she'd uttered the word 'engagement' in front of Emma when they were merely agreeing to a few dates to stir the pot. Her subconscious, perhaps, was more clever than her waking self. There was too much good sense in the idea to ignore.

The status quo – that was what she longed for. To rule, to be Snow White's enemy, and (tacked on in the most recent decade) to care for Henry.

_"But I don't love the King, mother."_

_"Love? Love has nothing to do with it, my dear girl. Love is weakness. Power, remember? Marrying the King will get us what we want."_

Cora had gotten them what Cora wanted, of course, not what Regina wanted. Not by a long shot, never mind her daughter's own wants or desires.

Now Regina's true love was dead, resurrected and dead again, and mother wasn't here to designate whom she opened her legs for and when.

It was time to get what she wanted. Her. Regina Mills.

She wanted a good family for Henry – an unbroken one – and security for both of them. A strong position from which to rule the kingdom and prevent the Charmings from running it into the ground. The misery of Snow White. A beautiful princess of whom all would be jealous. A happy son. And it would all be hers at the same time.

Marry a king? Never again. But she would marry the princess.

All in good time.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"All buckled up?"

Henry didn't lift his eyes from his comic book as he pulled the seatbelt across his chest. "Yeah."

Regina flipped down the visor mirror to check her makeup a final time. She had dressed to kill in a form-fitting black dress that she'd bought specifically for tonight. She was showing as much skin as possible, just skirting the line between classy and scandalous. "I want to make sure you're not going to get your hopes up, sweetheart. Emma and I are two adults seeing where this takes us."

"Yeah," Henry said, absorbed in a fight between Iron Man and the Mandarin.

Regina keyed the engine and shifted into drive. The stars were dim pinpricks in the night sky. Theirs was the only car on the road. "Emma and I dating on our own time isn't going to affect either of us in how much we love you."

"Dating?" Henry's head shot up. "I thought you were going to eat together?"

"That's what a date typically is, Henry."

"I thought you were trying to be friendly... or something?" Henry's voice sounded unnaturally high-pitched.

"I suppose I – well that's certainly a part of it."

"A date with, like, kissing?" Henry's face twisted in consternation. "Does Emma know it's a date?"

"Kissing isn't necessarily a part of it, and of course she knows, sweetheart. Why do you think she wouldn't?" She told herself very calmly to not be offended at Henry's utter lack of faith in her dating abilities.

"I don't know. She might think, like, you just want dinner or something. _I_ didn't know." Henry's brow furrowed. "Are you like, 100% sure?"

She gritted her teeth. Too late, she was offended. "She definitely knows."

Regina flicked on her turn signal at a stop sign, waiting for the florist's truck to pass by. Flowers. Now there was an idea. She would have to have some delivered for Emma at the Charmings' apartment. Preferably at a time of day when Snow would be there to receive them and Emma wouldn't.

Should she have brought flowers tonight, she wondered? Was that proper first date protocol? What if Emma brought flowers and she didn't?

_Stop it_. Perhaps Regina had never been on a date before but people like Emma did it all the time. It couldn't be too complex.

Henry returned to his comic book while Regina navigated the barren streets of Storybrooke. He periodically turned the pages but his eyes didn't move.

"So how come you're dating my mom?" Henry said as they turned onto Kathryn's street. His tone was calm again. All appearances suggested that he was immersed in Iron Man, instinctually keeping his emotional investment in the question hidden. Regina swallowed. He'd learned that from her.

"Your birth mother is smart, kind, funny... we learned to get along well in Neverland. We both love you. We have much in common." Three whole things, actually. She'd made a list for god's sake. Three more things than anyone else, at any rate.

Henry flipped the page on his comic. He was chewing his lip. It reminded her of Emma. "I don't think Grandma and Grandpa will like it."

Ice rushed through her veins. She squeezed the steering wheel like it was Snow White's ivory throat. "I suppose that's a bonus."

Henry seemed to accept her bitterness for what it was, because he didn't pursue it. "Yeah, and she's really tough, even not counting magic, so she's good at fights. Plus she can play soccer really well too."

Henry had dipped into his favorite conversation game: complementing Emma.

"That too," Regina allowed. If Henry thought soccer abilities were a good reason for dating Emma, who was she to disagree? "We're here, sweetie."

"Cool." Henry unbuckled and tugged his overnight bag over his shoulder. He abandoned his comic on the seat. "Bye mom!"

"Do everything that Kathryn tells you," Regina yelled out the window as Henry rounded the front of the car. "And don't sleep in your clothes. You have pajamas for a reason."

A door knock and a genial wave from Kathryn later, and Regina was sitting alone in her car. She checked her makeup in the mirror again.

A snake coiled around her stomach, oily with a malevolence that could only be equaled by her mother. The thin veins in her wrists tingled when she rubbed them. She hadn't felt this uneasy since she had lived under Cora's roof.

_Even in death you haunt me, mother._

She was a fool for letting her nerves run rampant. No one was here to interfere, to disapprove of her choices and eliminate them with a mechanical cruelty. Not her mother. No one.

In a way, Cora might have been proud. Regina was playing her romantic cards to gain the advantage.

She had been born to play this part. Literally.

Once Upon a Time

Regina spotted Emma's hair easily in the candlelit room. The host led her zigzag between two-person tables that hushed in their wake. She held her chin high.

"Regina. Hey."

"Hey," Regina said with an eye roll as the host pulled out her chair, marveling at her date's vocabulary. Had she not told Henry ten minutes ago that his birth mother was smart?

A stripe-shirted waiter scuttled over to pour water and distribute menus. Regina drummed her fingers until they were alone again.

"Thank you for agreeing to this. You look lovely," she said politely, giving Emma's outfit a quick, disinterested glance.

Emma's lean body, highlighted by a sleeveless crimson dress and semi-modest neckline, pleased her from an aesthetic point of view. Her golden hair, at least, was something decidedly non-Charming, although somehow befitting of a princess and a rugged small town sheriff at the same time. Certainly dashing enough to look good on Regina's arm and inspire jealousy in the meantime. That was what mattered in the end.

"Yeah, thanks," Emma said, giving the waistline of her dress a tug. Emma shifted her legs, uncomfortable, but at least she had made the effort. She was holding up her end. Perhaps this would go as smoothly as Regina has hoped. Emma's green eyes slid up and down her body. "You look amazing, Regina."

Regina smirked, biting back _I know_ and instead saying, "You're too kind, my dear."

"Before anything else," Emma said, "can we set something straight real quick? You know, before we embark on this little adventure?"

Regina nodded.

"This is real, isn't it? Us? This thing we're doing, right here, right now?"

She examined her manicure. "I don't know what you mean.”

Emma’s hard expression allowed for no redirection. "I mean if my mom calls you right now and declares her undying hate for you and promised to never speak to you again, would you walk away? Would we ever meet like this again?"

_Of course I would leave you, you silly girl,_ Regina thought. Poor little abandoned Emma, already questioning their compatibility. Would she, though? With her immediate problem solved, a great deal of benefits remained to be reaped from a relationship with Princess Emma.

Even as her thoughts raced, she schooled her emotions into an aura of somberness. “Do you truly think so low of me?”

Emma crossed her arms and looked her up and down, scanning Regina for what she could only assume to be weakness. Regina waited with bated breath, until Emma finally said, "So... me and you. Scheming together. On the same side."

Regina blinked rapidly. "The same side? I suppose, yes, we are." It was like mashing puzzle pieces together at random, and suddenly two of them fit together.

"Alright then," Emma said, leaning forward. "So we see what happens. No expectations. For any of this. What do you think?"

No expectations, no secret plans to double-cross Emma. No contract. No deals built on half-truths and witty riddles. Rumpelstiltskin would have had a stroke.

"I can agree to that," Regina said with caution. The question lingered as to what exactly had landed this stroke of good fortune, but she wasn't planning on questioning Emma's decision. She wasn't an idiot.

"Great."

"Excellent." Regina took an extra-large gulp of water.

"Wonderful," Emma said, then cracked open the enormous, leather-bound menu. She glared at it. "And this is all in French. Also wonderful. Fantastic."

Just like that, the plan was neatly in its proper place. The whole room felt brighter, even with the sparse candles being their only source of light.

If Regina were the squeal, hop up and dance kind of woman, this would have been her cue. Thankfully, she wasn't; she was the lean back and smirk type of woman, and she did – smugly.

Henry supported her and would support her no matter what the two dimwits said to him – not when his precious Emma was in the equation. She wasn't doing anything illegal, yet she felt so, so devious.

Emma perused the vast selection – at least Regina thought it had been a good selection – with a scowl, shook her head, then flipped the page.

Emma drummed her fingers on the white tablecloth as she frowned at the list of foods. Regina paused in her own appraisal of the menu, gauging her date. Emma's foot tapped underneath the table... but that didn't mask the fact that Regina could practically see the magic vibrating from underneath Emma's skin. The energy made Regina's skin itch and the veins in her wrists tingle.

"You didn't listen," Regina accused her. "You haven't had the Blue Fairy do what I told you at all. The magic's built up in your system again."

"Yeah, yeah." Emma dropped her menu and rubbed her forehead. "I feel like one of those animals they strap to a giant rocket right before takeoff."

"That's your own fault, then."

"Is not." Emma had the gall to look affronted. "I asked Blue and she wouldn't touch me. She said it was wrong to share magic between two people. She got all weird about it."

Regina made a face. "Puritanical fairy nonsense, I assure you. I had assumed her to be beyond such things."

"Yeah well, she gallivanted off and told Snow, and then I had to get a lecture from my mother about the dangers of being around you."

"I'll have to lower my already drastically reduced expectations of her, I suppose," she said airily. A smirk spread across her lips against her will. She dropped it when Emma instantly fixated on it. Whether Regina was the insulting-people-with-glee type of woman or not, it wouldn't do to draw Emma's attention to it.

There was no logical reason to hide it, she knew deep down. Emma knew her, and more than that was in on her schemes; Regina had nothing to hide. But that was just it – Regina had always had something to hide. It was a pattern that had protected her well in the past. She doubted she could ever unlearn it.

Besides, Regina wasn't a fool. She knew how uncomfortable it made people when they saw her exceptionally pleased at others' misfortune.

"Are we ready to order?" The waiter sidled next to them. "Or would you like more time?"

"I'll have the salmon, thank you," Regina said, handing him the menu. "And a glass of your house white."

"And for you, miss? Miss?"

Emma dragged her eyes away. She had been studying Regina's mouth. Regina didn't like that one iota. "Sorry. Yeah, something with chicken. Whatever's most popular."

"The _coq au vin_ is very fresh tonight," the waiter said. "Perfect paired with Pinot Noir."

Emma merely shrugged and nodded. Regina made a mental note of her disinterest for French food. She would have to make an effort to discover each of Emma's preferences. She wrinkled her nose at the idea of memorizing Emma's favorite color, favorite movies, favorite whatever.

"Mind telling me what I just ordered?"

"If I told you it was chicken liver would you be terribly upset?"

"Maybe, yeah." Emma eyed her shrewdly, piercing Regina's poker face. "But I would know that to be a lie, wouldn't I?"

Regina sipped her water coolly. "If you say so."

They stared each other down. Emma crossed her arms. Regina unfolded her napkin onto her lap.

Then Emma laughed. It was a short laugh and Emma quickly covered it up, like she knew she wasn't supposed to be happy in the presence of the Evil Queen, but it had sounded real. Regina thought of five different insults before discarding them and realizing she had no idea how to react.

"Maybe chicken liver's my favorite food," Emma said.

"I don't believe you."

She was small-talking with Henry's other mother and her nemesis's daughter, and there had been no sudden twist. No angle had inserted itself to get in the way to make her life more miserable for the trying. Not yet, anyway.

Regina told herself not to question Emma's decision but a tiny, insecure part of her needed the confirmation, even as Emma was clearly enjoying her company. She hated that part of herself. "You're sure you want to do… this."

"Sure? I haven't been sure of anything since I got here. But yeah, I'm in." Emma gave a shrug, running a finger up the stem of her empty wineglass. "Honestly, I'm kind of relieved to be in a normal dating scene for a while. Well, as normal as this place can get."

“Not to disappoint you, but I don’t know that normal has ever been in the cards for either of us.”

"Nope.” Emma gave her a sly smile. The smile was small and dark in the dim candlelight, but it felt true. Regina wished she knew how to smile like that. "So I guess we're on the same team now. And the goal is... making Snow hate you, I guess?"

“Oh, she already hates me, dear. The trick is getting her to admit it to herself. But to answer your question, yes, that is one of my goals. Amongst other things." Re-securing her hold as a power player in Storybrooke. A stable family for Henry. “Spending time in your lovely company being an equally important goal, of course,” she added, quite suavely she thought.

"And I'm not a bad daughter for being okay with this... I think. Right, okay. I can get with that."

Regina liked the idea of having someone 'on her side.' It was a foreign feeling. "That is excellent, Miss Swan. Emma. I booked this time and place specifically because your parents would be here."

Emma choked on her water, quickly scanning the room. "Wait -- what?"

Snow and David were seated across the dining area, main courses half-eaten and abandoned, staring at the odd couple with eyes as round as saucers.

Regina squeezed Emma's hand reassuringly.

Snow smiled brittlely and gave a half-hearted wave. Regina waved back.

"Ah," Emma said, also giving her mother a weak wave. “That’s a thing. That is a thing that is happening.”

Regina hardly noticed when the waiter arrived with two bottles of wine in tow and poured them both samples. Hers tasted satisfyingly sweet. "Perfect," she said as Snow, still smiling like her face was about to shatter into a million pieces, whispered something hurriedly to her husband.

"And I don't even know why I'm surprised," Emma muttered into her glass, before downing her sampler in one gulp.

"Were you expecting me to act another way?" Regina swirled her wine, finally breaking away from the gratifying scene across the dining room.

"Who, me? Nope, I've learned my lesson. So let's pretend they're not staring at us, shall we?"

Emma could pretend all she wanted. Regina could have bathed in their attention.

"Speaking of us," Regina gestured at the space between the two of them, "Henry knows. I do my best not to keep secrets from him anymore. Although he didn't seem opposed. He listed punching and soccer abilities as your most desirable qualities."

"Me, good at punching? The kid's clearly never seen you deck someone." She rubbed her jaw like it still hurt. "I wasn't really sure what to tell him or how, for that matter – hey, food. And it's not disgusting, you sick bitch."

If the waiter was offended by her surprise at edible food, he kept it to himself like a true professional.

"Chicken in red wine," Regina explained. "Some people do white. Never eat that. It's disgusting."

"Thanks for the tip." Emma cut off a piece and shoved it into her mouth. "Yeah, this is pretty awesome," she said after swallowing.

This time Regina allowed herself to smirk and didn't force it to disappear when Emma grinned back. Somehow, by some miracle, they were conspiring together. _There is nothing to hide,_ she forcefully told the conniving, desperate part of her brain that reeled at the very thought.

She and Emma had no expectations, the conversation was pleasant, and Snow was surely grinding her teeth down to the gums not fifty feet away watching her beautiful daughter laugh and dine with her worst enemy.

They focused on their meals after that. Regina took her time, savoring each morsel and sipping her wine between bites. Emma dove into her dish, although she often paused to make low comments such as "Henry would hate these peas, actually I hate these peas" and "look at how tiny this fork is."

To Regina’s appreciation, Emma did her part to keep the conversation from dying out where inquisitive eyes were sure to be studying them. The whole restaurant would gossip their opinions on the savior and the evil queen's romantic dinner tomorrow morning. The more comfortable they looked with each other, the better. Especially in front of two sets of eyes in particular.

No expectations. She liked that. _On her side._ She liked that even more.

Besides, the more wine Regina sipped, the more enjoyable she found Emma's commentary. She monitored an increasingly heated altercation between Snow and David from the corner of her eye, and she outright laughed aloud at one of Emma’s jokes. When the waiter checked if they wanted refills, she accepted and so did Emma. She ended up eating Emma's peas for her. It seemed fair.

Emma's remarks decreased as their meals disappeared. Her hand went to her stomach on more than one occasion. She would pause and put her fork down when this happened. The fine hairs on Regina's arm tingled when she saw it. Magic.

"Perhaps we should skip dessert. You're in pain." Regina frowned at Emma's wincing form after their plates were cleared. She didn't want anyone getting the impression that Emma was not enjoying her company.

"Yeah, concerning this," Emma jerked her thumb at herself, "think we can get out of here, go back to your place and take the edge off a little bit?"

"Sorry to interrupt," Snow's strangled voice broke in from nowhere.

"Mary Margaret!" Emma sat up straight as Snow cringed. Snow must have hated it when her daughter slipped and called her by her old name, although it probably hurt worse that Emma didn't call her mother.

It filled Regina with no small amount of joy, at any rate. Perhaps she would speak to Miss Swan about ensuring that it would stay that way.

"If it isn't the dynamic duo themselves." Regina's eyes hooded. "Interesting to run into you here." Her lip curled like she had just sniffed spoiled milk.

David gave her a polite nod, ever the chivalrous noble. "We were hoping for a quick word with Emma."

"Totally, what's up?" Emma said with a nonchalant air, obviously – to Regina – attempting to conceal her pain.

Snow made a pointed look toward Regina, who rolled her eyes.

"Oh. Um, right." Emma balled up her napkin and pushed it onto the table. "I'll be right back, Regina. I gotta deal with – yeah, right back."

"If you must, dear. Hurry back soon," Regina said, not missing an opportunity to thoroughly inspect Emma's breasts in front of her mother. Snow's mouth twisted as her eyes darted between the two of them. Regina didn't particularly care one way or the other about Emma's assets, but the sheer appall on Snow's face made it worth the effort.

Emma's cheeks flushed scarlet but otherwise ignored the attention, hauling out of her seat and trailing her parents to the front doors. The blonde gave her one final martyred look before slipping outside.

Regina licked the last drops of wine from the edge of her glass. She waited all of one minute before yanking a number of bills from her clutch purse, tucking them under a dinner plate.

The host, for his part, remained determinedly inattentive when Regina stalked near the reception area. Three familiar silhouettes – two facing one – were outlined an arm's width from the glass doors. Regina lurked in the corner furthest from the glass and held her breath, ears straining.

"– shouldn't be alone with her, Emma."

"Yeah well, last I heard that's not up to you. Guys, come on. Don't be like this."

"This is your safety we're talking about here," David piped in obnoxiously. "We know her. She is using you to get to us."

"How about I make that determination and if she randomly tries to murder me, you can say you told me so?"

There was a pause and something breathy that may have been a sigh.

"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I knew you guys wouldn't react well. I still care about you guys. It's just a date."

"Just one?" Snow asked, her voice cracking. She sounded like she was on the verge of either tears or a violent rampage. Regina would be satisfied with either. "How long has this been going on under our noses?"

Emma, bless her, didn't confirm nor deny the true length of their single, hour-long date. She merely said, "Trust me on this."

"Emma," David said, "we respect your independence but you have to understand –"

"No," Snow interrupted. "You know what? She's right."

Regina would have choked had she been chewing.

"Regina deserves better from us." Snow's short silhouette paced around the other two, then she stopped and put her hands on her hips. "We keep asking her to change but then we expect her to fail. Maybe she wouldn't have fallen back in with Cora if we'd been more reasonable with Archie's murder."

The sound of her mother's name leaving that conniving wretch's lips make Regina's blood rush in her veins. That insolent ingrate dared to utter Cora's name? To taint it?

"All the evidence was against her," David said. "We had no choice but to believe it. You can't fault yourself for that."

"I don't regret that, Charming, honestly, but the way we handled it's a different story. We bullied her. No, I bullied her, and I encouraged others to do the same. Maybe if I hadn't – maybe Johanna wouldn't be dead." Her voice strengthened. Regina could imagine Snow puffing her chest. "Emma, I can't speak for your father, but you have my blessing."

The trio fell into silence. Regina wanted to scream.

Emma stuttered out a shocked thanks, then David blathered on sounding uncertain but tentatively supportive. Regina didn't pay particular attention. The lobby tinted blood red. Her fingers curled into fists. Her nails dug into her palms. She thought one of her nails may have drawn blood – she didn't look to check. She didn't think it wise to see blood. Not now.

Two of the silhouettes blurred, then dissipated altogether as they strode hand-in-hand to the parking lot. Even their walk was self-righteous.

"Hey." Emma sidled into view, rubbing her bare arms from the cold. "So... you overheard?"

"Indeed."

They stood together for a long moment.

People kept trying to domesticate her no matter how many times she bit and snarled. With how many times she'd sunken her teeth into the hand that fed her, one would think they'd get the picture.

Only now her beautiful son had de-clawed and muzzled her. She was helpless... or so Snow White believed.

Emma shifted her weight. "If you wanna, you know... break this off. Better to do it now than let this go any further, Regina. I'd get it. Wouldn't like it. But I'd get it."

Emma was looking stonily at the carpet. Waiting for the proverbial axe to drop on her pretty little neck, Regina supposed. Well too damn bad.

"No," Regina ground out. The tail lights of David's truck gleamed as it roared down the street. "Not on your life."

Once Upon a Time

Regina and Emma rode in the Mercedes in silence. Regina's mind was racing for solutions but coming up empty on ones that didn't include explosions and curses. There was only one way forward now, and that was with her current plan. Snow couldn't possibly approve of their relationship for long. She would break eventually. Regina would make sure that happened.

She gritted her teeth when Emma slipped her hand into Regina's, but allowed it nonetheless. Emma whimpered when the magic started to drain out of her. She had been exceptionally pale after confronting her parents.

Regina drove one-handed to the house, Emma staring out the window until they parked in the drive.

"Do you think I should have been less agreeable?"

"You did fine." Regina was not disappointed in the placating role Emma had taken with her parents. Emma had acted exactly how she would in any other situation. Snow would have picked up on anything else. "How are you feeling?"

Emma rested her face against the glass with a groan. "Like ass."

"Let's go." Regina broke the connection, pulling away and sliding out of the car. After Regina unlocked the front door Emma followed her into the sitting room and slouched onto the couch without asking. Regina kicked her heels off and gracefully sat next to her. Emma's eyes squeezed shut, but that didn't stop her hand from searching out Regina's.

Henry's Iron Man comics were scattered on the carpet exactly where she'd told him they shouldn't be.

"If you practice spells regularly, this wouldn't happen." Regina couldn't help but be annoyed at the inconvenience, although there was the benefit that this date might not have happened without the bizarre conversation that took place the last time this had occurred.

"Did you ever have to do this?" Emma held up their conjoined arms as the magic drained.

Regina rolled her eyes. "No, because I practiced magic like I was supposed to."

"Yeah well, so far all my magic lessons comprise of me staring at an ugly flower. So, yeah, it'll be a while."

That was a lesson Regina had never heard of. "What is the purpose of the ugly flower?" she asked, genuinely perplexed.

"Make it not so ugly."

"That spell has no benefit whatsoever." Her nose scrunched. It sounded like fairy fru fru nonsense to her. "Regardless, your magic won't settle itself until you get the hang of spellwork. When you get overloaded like this, you become dangerous. You cannot be near Henry like this. If you can't learn that fast enough, try another spell and we won't have to deal with this next time."

What utter futility. She wanted to run to the convent right then and rip out their entire flower bed. Would Snow hate her then? Or would she plant the Regina Mills' Goodness Memorial Garden in its place?

"Next time," Emma said. "God. We're really doing it. We're freaking dating."

"Well that's what we said we would do," Regina said, a little annoyed.

"Well yeah, but still." Emma acted like Regina was supposed to follow her logic there. Regina most certainly didn't. "Hey, and my parents don't hate me."

Regina sighed. "Don't worry your pretty little head about that. I doubt they ever will, dear. It's me they're supposed to hate."

"Yeah," Emma said. "Only they're not."

"Not yet," she vowed.

They didn't say anything for a moment, until Emma said, "I seriously don't know what's wrong with her."

She decided to ignore that, then considered thumbing through one of the comic books so that Emma would stop talking to her. She could feel the oncoming of a headache forming between her eyes. Perhaps absorbing large quantities of magic twice in one week was taxing her body.

It was still a high, though, the same high that made her squeeze her hips together when pouring power into a spell. It was delicious. She wondered if Emma felt as satiated as she did.

Gradually the flow of magic trickled until there was none left. Emma opened and closed her fist, staring at it.

"Guess I'll be heading home then. I walked to the restaurant, I'll just walk home too. It's not far."

Regina hadn't even thought of where Emma had parked or how she would get home. She'd been so focused on the problem at hand that it had been instinctual to drag Emma along to her house, keeping her close, the one card she had to play.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'll drive you."

"No, it's fine, I could use some exercise and the air will do me good. Quiet time, you know?"

"If you insist."

Regina folded her arms. Emma made no move to get off the couch.

Regina supposed this was when the goodbye was supposed to happen. Suddenly she had no idea what to do with her hands. She rubbed them together – one of them still warm from Emma's body heat – then folded them on her lap. Should she walk Emma to the door?

"I um, I had a good time tonight," Emma said, "craziness notwithstanding. I guess this is adios for now. Thank you for the dinner, for the company, for everything, I guess."

"You're very welcome, Miss Swan... Emma. I also enjoyed our meal together." Regina tried not to sound too surprised. She forced herself not to question why – not why she'd enjoyed the meal, but why Emma had.

Emma's lips twitched upward. "Emma sounds nice, coming from you."

Emma rose and Regina inexplicably rose with her and followed her to the door.

"Goodnight, Emma," she said, testing the feel of the name on her tongue again.

"See you around, Regina," Emma said, hand on the door handle, and then Regina realized exactly how close they were standing.

_Why isn't she leaving?_ Regina thought stupidly, before noticing exactly where Emma's eyes were fixed: on her lips. Regina pursed them.

Right. The physical component of relationships that Regina had told herself she wouldn't mind, that it would be a stress reliever. Just like Graham.

Regina had enjoyed Emma's company and the aesthetic beauty of her, to be sure, but she had nearly forgotten what was normally expected from these types of circumstances. Snow White wasn't even here to witness and gasp in horror.

Of course Emma desired her. All the men Regina had interacted with were the same, why not the women too? Was Emma going to kiss her? Or touch her? And what was she supposed to do with her hands?

Emma's eyes – they were exactly like Graham's eyes when they had lit on her in the dark of her bedroom. Only she had never kissed Graham – Regina had never been interested in that. And Graham wasn't an aggravating blonde who had once chainsawed the branches off her apple tree.

Her mind raced until Emma brushed her lips against… her cheek? "Goodnight, Regina."

Emma slipped out the door.

A thousand variations of the same three questions sped through her mind: should she have kissed Emma? Was that inappropriate for a first date? Why hadn't Emma kissed her?

She hadn't particularly wanted to kiss Emma. She supposed she should consider it a boon, but some part of her felt insulted. She hadn't threatened Emma once, not since they had planned this date.

Still, her cheek burned where Emma's soft lips had brushed.

She retreated upstairs and peeled off her dress and pantyhose, then put away some last minute laundry before bed. She thought about the forgiving words Snow had uttered tonight, and how much she hated them. How much she hated her.

Her phone chirped as she was folding a pair of pants into a drawer.

_How was date?_

Henry was up a good – Regina checked the time – three hours past his bedtime. She agitatedly typed her response.

_Go to sleep. NOW._

She touched the spot where Emma's mouth had pressed into her skin.

Emma was on her side, she reminded herself. That was the light, feathery feeling in her chest. Emma had helped give that to her. Well, it had been Regina's planning and determination that had made it happen, but Emma contributed.

She suddenly felt ungrateful. Undeserving. It was a stupid, aggravating feeling, which she did her best to stamp out as she folded the last of the laundry.

Somehow eating Emma's peas didn't seem like enough of a payback.

She waited for the expected annoyed confirmation from Henry, but none came. She paced the room twice before sending a second message.

_It went well._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 might take a bit. It's fully written, but the pacing's all... weird. Which means I need to hit it with an edit stick until I figure it out. Or just a regular stick.
> 
> Also, thanks MajesticSerendipity, for saving me from my own technological ineptitude. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The blackened carpet crumbled like burnt toast as Regina scrubbed. Black pieces clung to her rag – she shook them off into the bin. Snow's candle had burned clear through the foam underlay where she'd hurled a fireball at it a week ago.

Regina didn't regret throwing it, she thought as she scrubbed harder. Not for one second.

Soon all remnants of the blemished carpet were scrubbed clean away until she was left with a fist-sized patch of cold, ashy floorboard. She pressed her fingertips to it. They came back tipped gray with soot.

Destruction. She didn't do well at a great many things – being forgiving, being a friend, being a mother. Setting the world ablaze, she had that in the bag.

She considered tossing a throw rug over the hole before discarding the idea altogether. She left the hole where it was, bare and ugly for anyone who stepped inside her home to see. Let them look at it.

Speaking of destruction and Regina’s penchants therein, it had been three days since she'd last heard from Emma. She dusted off her hands and opened her front door, allowing a ray of sunshine to fall into her home.

She closed the door. Perhaps she should text Emma first. Or call her.

And when exactly was she supposed to provide flowers?

To hell with it. She opened the door again.

Once Upon a Time

She tracked Emma to the convent gardens. The Blue Fairy was striding around the blonde and waving her arms, chattering away.

Whatever Blue was yammering on about was indistinguishable from where Regina leaned against an oak tree, although it mattered none. Whatever she was saying, Regina was certain that it was utter drivel. Based on Emma's ill-concealed scowl, she was of much the same opinion.

Regina crossed her arms and squinted against the sunlight as the fairy tottered around the gardens, searching amongst the various herbs and rose bushes. Eventually Blue selected a pot and brought it to Emma. The ceramic and highly ordinary pot held a scraggly collection of daffodils that had certainly seen better days, drooping over the sides and minus more than a few petals. Blue squeezed Emma's arm and whispered something in her ear, to which she nodded with grim resolve, sat cross-legged with the pot and promptly glared at it. 

The supposed magic training was very much as Emma had described it to her on their previous date.  A small part of Regina had hoped that Emma’s description of “making an ugly flower pretty” had been an oversimplification from a student not yet learned enough to understand the complexities of arcanic instruction.  That small part had been dead wrong.  “Shocking,” she muttered.

Emma leaned forward, apparently set to the task of revitalizing the wilting flowers by staring it down and subjecting it to her sheer force of will, her lips sometimes moving and hinting at words that Regina couldn't make out.

Regina clucked her tongue as the glaring session stretched to ten minutes, then to twenty. She could feel Emma's magic from here, roiling and raging to be released. The daffodils, however, continued to droop and look all-around pathetic as Emma's lips pressed into a thinner and thinner line.

Somebody was going to get hurt. _It had better not be Henry,_ Regina thought with a grimace. The Blue Fairy's techniques were clearly as useful as a parachute on a sinking ship.

Movement caught Regina's eye from across the garden. Snow White was hunching over a picnic table, sipping from a mug and studying Emma's figure. Her thumbnail worried into the wood of the table, over and over again in the same line, waiting for Emma to do... something.

_Keep ruining your nails, sweetheart,_ Regina thought. _If she turns those flowers pretty I'll eat my shoe._

The magic in Emma was building, however, and she would reach a tipping point soon if she kept this up. It was time to prove to Emma that Regina could hold up her end of the bargain.

Once Upon a Time 

Emma shoved her hands in her jacket, glancing around the park. A gaggle of boys and girls practiced soccer in a field while couples and families shuffled around and took in the scenery. "You know, I was kinda thinking I could choose our next date."

"You took too long to ask me," Regina pointed out, deliberately ignoring the fact that it had been less than seventy-two hours since their last date. Not that she knew how long was normal to wait between dates, but frankly three days was long enough when they had an agenda to abide by. "Besides, it's time I hold up my end of the --"

Regina stopped the words before they tumbled out. Somehow she didn't believe Emma would appreciate their dates being referred to as a bargain. "My offer," she amended. "I offered to help you with magic."

"Here? In front of the whole town?" Emma’s eyebrows knitted as if Regina were proposing they film a pornography video.  Honestly.

"Yes, here, right now. Not to mention that I would be remiss to forgo an opportunity for mommy dearest to hear that I'm tutoring you.”

Regina flapped a blanket open and settled it on the grass, then pulled out take away boxes from her bag. Emma shuffled her feet. "I could have brought food or like, wine, if you'd told me we'd be on a picnic."

"It was a spur of the moment." She had texted Emma to meet her in the park minutes after leaving the garden, already en route to Granny's. She had identified a problem and there had been no sense in waiting to solve it. If there was one thing Regina loved, it was efficiency.

Regina tucked her legs underneath her and patted the spot next to her. Emma sat cross-legged and folded her arms.

"I was watching you," Regina said, handing her the hamburger and fries she'd ordered with Emma in mind. "I mean this morning at the convent," she clarified when a puzzled expression flashed across Emma's features. "You intrigued me when you told me about your training. I wanted to see for myself."

"Where were you? Lurking in the bushes?" Emma stuffed a french fry into her mouth as she gave Regina an assessing once-over.  "You could have just asked to come.  Unless lurking is a hobby of yours, in which case, carry on.”

Regina didn’t know if she liked the stalker-ish connotations that came with Emma’s use of _lurking_ , but bit her tongue.  There was nothing wrong with conducting reconnaissance. "In any case,” she determinedly plowed the conversation forward, “as someone invested in your future success, your progress is important to me. And you are not progressing."

"Yeah well, we can't all be magical savants in this town." Emma fisted her hand in the grass, uprooting a weedy yellow flower, the kind that sprung up in tufts and inspired vitriol in gardeners everywhere. "So show me. Talk me through it."

Regina took the flower, rolling the stem between her thumb and index finger. Dirt crumbled from the roots onto her lap, which she brushed off with distaste. They had a long road ahead of them. "Our first order of business, dear, is the highly underappreciated talent of introspection. Look at your actions. You just yanked a sad little flower out of the ground and asked me how to make it beautiful.  Tell me what’s wrong with this picture."

"Hey, no one ever said the spell only worked on live plants," Emma protested, although based on her flinch she already had an idea of where she went wrong. "And it's probably still okay, plants don't just shrivel up and die-"

"That's not the point." Regina pulled the flower away when Emma tried to snatch it back. "You are your magic. You do not care about how pretty a flower is. It's not in your character. It's not in mine, either." She shrugged. "It's not a spell that comes to either of us naturally."

Emma's bottom lip caught. "Blue said it would be the easiest spell. As in out of all of them."

"She thinks that because you're the product of true love and she's a nitwit." Regina rolled her eyes. "Let me show you what comes natural to me."

The petals burst into flames and smoldered into ash – Regina opened her palm and let the wind sweep it away. She picked a second flower and gave it to Emma. "Now you try. Do what comes natural."

Emma sighed, holding the flower aloft at eye level. It was brighter than the first one, more perky. Emma eyed it with disdain. "I don't want to burn it. But I don't want to beautify it, for Christ sake."

"What do you want?" Regina urged.

"Does not giving a shit about it at all count?" She waggled the flower in the air. "Seriously. I mean, I care about learning magic, but do you know how much time I've wasted staring at these?"

"You won't progress if you don't at least try," Regina snapped. "Watch me again, but this time hold onto my wrist as I do it. Feel what I feel." She reached blindly for another flower, but came up empty. She twisted around – there were no flowers in sight.

The spring blossoms in the trees were missing. A hedge trimmer cried in dismay from across the field. The blooming shrubs he had been trimming were barren.

"Freaking... of course." Emma crushed the flower she had been holding – the only remaining flower in the park – and threw it. "God damn it."

"Don't curse it, Emma." Regina hid her cringe as she examined the damage. She could only hope Emma hadn't banished all the flowers in Storybrooke. The ecological implications of that were too daunting to contemplate. "It's progress. Was that your intention? Banishment?"

"Yeah, but this one flower, not the entire, you know." She gestured at the world in general. "And this one didn't get banished at all."

"Take the victory where you can get it," Regina advised, and opened her own take away box. "You concentrated a lot of magic on one tiny plant. First rule of magic: all magic has to go somewhere. So it did."

Emma seemed to accept Regina's teachings at face value, because she didn't question further. She ate her hamburger and swirled her fries in ketchup and watched Regina pick at her salad.

Regina searched for whatever words would put Emma at ease. They did not come.

She should have researched this more. Done a damn Google search, for crying out loud. By the time Emma was finished with her meal, Regina's had hardly been touched while her mind raced for subjects to talk about.

"So, uh, not that into salad today?"

"I like salad." She stabbed a crouton with a plastic fork and ate it to prove it.

"I should've saved some fries for you," Emma said, scolding herself, not accepting Regina's answer. "Wanna go get something else?"

"I like salad," Regina said again, taking an even bigger bite.

"Can I pay for dessert somewhere then, unless you have more food stuffed in that bag? This just feels a little uneven. You paid for dinner at that fancy place already and now you've put up for food again. Not that I'm complaining, food from Granny's is always awesome, I just--"

"Of course. Wherever you like." Regina didn't mention the slices of chocolate cake wrapped and tucked away. Compromise - she had forgotten about that. Even she knew that was supposed to be a part of relationships. While she wouldn't classify two awkward dates as a relationship, Regina never lacked in ambition. She would do this right.

She couldn't bear the thought of Emma running to her mother lamenting Regina’s abject lack of interpersonal skills. The only thing Emma should be saying to Snow was how excellent their dates were going. That was key.

Regina hadn't prepared for today. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice. She would allow Emma to "compromise" and buy her a dessert, and Regina would be appreciative. Then she would kiss Emma when they said goodbye.

She would.

Graham had been so simple. If only it could be that easy again. If only she hadn't... well, that had been wrong. Graham's death was a prime example of why her son had hated her and flown into Emma's arms. She had dug her own grave and now she had to lie down in it. Learning to let go was why she still had Henry, and Henry was why she had to stick to the plan and do it right - no sloppiness. Flawless execution, as she had been taught.

"So what dessert is your favorite, and where can we get it?" Regina said with a smile. It felt fake. It was fake. But Emma smiled back and it was one of those genuine smiles, the kind that always took her aback when she saw one. Regina's fake one slid right off her face.

Emma rose and held out her hand, helping Regina to her feet. "Let's pack up, then follow me. I know where to get the most awesome cheesecake."

Emma kept holding onto her hand while Regina slid her toes back into her heels. It was something that couples who dated did, so Regina did not complain or pull away. She held on tighter.

Once Upon a Time

Emma stuffed the largest forkful of cheesecake into her mouth that Regina had ever seen. "This is the best."

Regina carefully carved a more modest portion out and sampled it.

"Don't feel pressured." Emma's hand grazed Regina's wrist. "I'll eat yours if you don't like it."

They were tucked into a two person booth at a shop a block down from Granny's. The baker was sweating, glancing at her from behind the display counter. She scowled back and he immediately looked busy shaping dough on a pan. Did he think she'd fireball him if she didn't find the taste to her liking?

"I like it," Regina said after chewing slowly.

"Yeah? Man, I could've had two slices," Emma sad, not a little sadly. "I guess that's good for me. Health and nutrition and all that."

Then a girl wearing a Storybrooke soccer team uniform pranced past the display window and Emma launched into her suspicions that Henry wanted to play but was too scared of not doing well to try out. Regina latched onto the subject with ease - Henry had never shown an inclination toward athletics, but she too had seen his longing looks at other kids in uniform.

She found herself wondering aloud if he was attracted to the idea more than the physical act of kicking around a ball. Emma didn't think there was a difference, and so they argued.

The topic of their son carried them swiftly into territory that both were comfortable with.  They discussed Henry’s latest career ambitions (growing up to be a lawyer, which pleased Regina and appalled Emma), his new friend Richard whom Regina thought was shady (Emma thought he was “real,” whatever that meant), and Henry’s recent diorama of the Lincoln assassination (Emma agreed the amount of blood Henry used was obscene). Two hours passed in the blink of an eye and then the bakery was closing.

The baker locked the doors as Regina stood next to Emma and checked her phone. It was just past four o'clock. Was this the end of their date? She had told herself she would kiss Emma. She had to man up – woman up, rather – and do it.

Emma was standing unusually close to her. "I guess I'll see you later, then?"

"Henry will be out of school soon," Regina said, then in a fit of inspiration added, "we could pick him up together."

It was still technically Regina's day to have Henry, so Emma should have jumped at the chance, and she did.

"Yeah, totally. It'll be good for the kid, show him we can get along."

They walked side by side to the school.

Regina stared at Emma's hand as they walked and Emma talked about the new sheriff station furniture. Emma had touched hers before without asking. Should she hold it now? Would that be strange?

Once again she keenly felt her lack of preparation. She held off for now. Emma had been fine taking the initiative before, so reason stood that she would do it again if she so desired.

Henry met them at the front of the school and seemed to get over his shock at seeing the pair of them within seconds. His reality was easily adjustable, malleable and open to change. _To be young_ , Regina thought as Emma ruffled his hair. She had done so much to ruin him without realizing it. He was a talking, breathing reminder of why she was still here. Why she had changed.

Now, if her relationship with Emma succeeded, he would have both of them as a package deal. Two mothers. She wouldn't think about the half dozen morally murky father figures he had lurking around town, but two mothers -- it was hard to go wrong with that.

Once Upon a Time 

Henry ended up suggesting the three of them eat dinner together. Emma had glanced at Regina for approval before nodding in agreement.

Emma did menial tasks in the kitchen as directed by Regina, like chopping lettuce and dicing tomatoes, while Henry bounced around yammering full speed about the preview for the next Teen Titans comic and every once in a while, when he remembered, set a dish on the table. After she'd put the meatloaf in the oven, they listened to Henry recount the previous ten comics leading up to the new one. Sometimes Regina would find herself sharing a glance with Emma, the kind that said they both enjoyed listening. Regina would look away when those glances happened.

They ate and Henry kept the conversation going, never allowing silence to reign over the dinner table. Regina mentally patted herself on the back for her son's social ease. She was still finding her footing with Emma and first impressions were important. Sometimes, like today during the picnic, she felt like she and Emma spoke two different languages. Even though her family sprung from humble origins, Cora had conditioned Regina from birth to speak like a noblewoman solely to noble people, and Emma...

Emma was sometimes crude, always to the point, and spoke her beliefs. Not even the lowborn in the kingdom spoke like that, trained into meekness from birth by the aristocracy. They knew their place.

She would brainstorm later on topics that interested Emma. The topic of their son was obvious, but she couldn't rely on that forever. They had spoken for two hours about him in the bakery, and Regina had strangely enjoyed it. Emma had respected her opinions and listened when she spoke, at least when she hadn't been busy stuffing her face with cheesecake, and Regina had made an effort to tolerate Emma’s ideas.  If she could tolerate Emma’s terrible suggestions at raising their son, Regina felt she could handle any topic with the princess.  The question that now presented itself was _which topics_?

Henry picked a movie for them to watch and within thirty minutes he was asleep. Emma carried him to bed, and for a few long minutes, Regina reveled in how relaxed she was.

Then Emma returned to the living room and slid onto the couch where she'd been before.

To Regina's horror, she was alone with Emma.

"Getting kind of late. Um, listen, I don't really know how to ask this, but..."

Regina tensed, but nonetheless took a tentative seat beside her on the couch.

"Getting rid of all those flowers took a bit out of me, but I'm still kinda..."

"Of course." Regina took her hand and squeezed it, not hesitating to allow the magic from Emma to seep into her. The magic was, in fact, overflowing. Emma must have been in agony during dinner, but she had hidden it well.

"Give it a few weeks, and this won't be necessary."

Emma's cheeks colored prettily. "Right."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of."  _Mostly_ , she added silently.

"I know, I know. Just seems a little silly." Emma scanned her sideways, still blushing. "Us sitting here holding hands like dorks. Pretty sure I haven't held someone's hand like this since middle school."

"Oh," Regina said, making a mental note. She had nearly made a critical mistake earlier. "Well, as adults I'm sure we can handle it."

Emma shut her mouth after that. She waited until nearly all the magic had drained from her body, then pulled away and shrugged on her leather jacket. "So what do you think about teaching Henry some soccer sometime?"

"I don't know anything about soccer," Regina said. "You'll have to teach him if he wants instruction. Or I could hire a soccer tutor."

"No, I mean, together. We can hang out on a Saturday and kick a ball around, see if he actually likes it. Then I could take you, I dunno, somewhere fancy. Leave the kid somewhere, roaming the wilderness or whatever. Or with a babysitter, if you insist."

Damn it, she needed so many things. Cleats. Clothes that she could kick a ball in. Coordination. "I -- well, yes. I would like that."

It was another date, and this time it was Emma who was pursuing her. Although Regina was disappointed with how disinterested her partner sounded, it meant Emma was still game, and Emma being game meant everything.

Emma hesitated at the front door, fiddling with the handle.  Regina hovered next to her, forcefully reminding herself about the kiss and her determination to pull it off.   She remembered how indignant Emma had been at first. Emma had standards. Perhaps she would be offended by anything less than an honest attempt at romance.

What if kissing after a date was also something Emma considered childish? Why did everyone insist on putting on this parade of affection? Why couldn't everyone skip to sex? She was good at that. She knew what to say, and when, and how.

While she contemplated the thousand and one possibilities of what she should be doing, Emma gave her a wave and before Regina knew it, she was gone.

Regina was left by herself.

Once Upon a Time 

She paced her bedroom in her nightclothes. Her laptop was open on her desk, a dozen tabs opened up about dating, and their advice was all the same: it depended.

It depended on bullshit. Regina knew damn well everyone was different, she didn't need a computer to tell her that. She needed to know what the societal norm was, so even if Emma didn't like something she did, she wouldn't be blamed for it. But apparently 'it depended.'

Sex on the first date? That depended. Sex after marriage? That was a possibility too. Talking about children? To be avoided at all costs early on, yet Emma had seemed to enjoy it. She longed for the old days, where you met someone you liked, and then you married, with no nonsense in the middle, like she had planned with Daniel. It had been logical. Where was that logic here?

None. There was no logic. There were no answers to a plan that her happiness depended on.

Before, Emma had kissed her on the cheek. Tonight, she had waved. Waves were impersonal. Snow White waved at her just yesterday, to Regina's great annoyance, from across the street.

Emma hadn't even sounded like she wanted to meet again, just sort of... obligated.

Regina had a choice to make. Follow Emma's lead and allow the space between them go grow, until Emma lost all interest in their arrangement... or up the ante and add a healthy dose of sexuality to their encounters.

She picked up her phone and tapped out a text to Emma: _With your permission, I'd like to attend tomorrow's magic lesson. It is every day, same time, correct?_

Within seconds Emma responded. _Sure. I'll take care of food for after._

_I want to eat by ourselves. Your home or mine?_

_Mine. :)_

Regina collapsed onto her bed.

Fact one: Emma was attracted to women. It was hard not to notice the tiny swallow when Ruby swanned into the diner in a ridiculously revealing outfit, or the hitch in Emma's breath when Mulan invaded her personal space to correct her form in one of their sword training meetups. Regina knew this for a certainty and there was no denying it.

Fact two: Emma had wanted to kiss her -- had looked at Regina's lips the night of their first date like she wanted nothing more than to taste them. But she hadn't that night, and now tonight she had barely looked interested. She had treated Regina like a cold, floppy fish when Regina had frozen at the mansion front door.

Regina had taught her magic in the park, and hadn’t even insisted that they do it in sight of Snow.  Regina had compromised on dessert.  They had spent two hours in a somewhat enjoyable conversation about their son.  And had they not bonded together with Henry later that night?  She had played out the most domestic scene of her life at dinner, all for Emma.  They had _made a salad_ together.

That was not enough for Emma Swan, apparently.

That was fine. Regina wasn't insecure about her body. She needed only to apply continuous, steady pressure. If Emma was attracted to women -- and Regina was positive that she was – she would crack.

If sleeping with Emma was required to keep her attention, then so be it. Besides, it had been a long time since Regina had been sated in that particular way. She could see herself getting used to Emma. Probably.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_"Mother? Mother? What's wrong?"_

_"This," Cora said, smiling like it explained everything. It explained nothing. "This would have been enough."_

Regina jerked awake, sucking air through her teeth. A thick comforter enveloped her, yet she shivered. She felt as frozen as the day she’d held her mother in the cold, quiet room. 

If she could inflict a fraction of her pain onto Snow…

She dug deeper into the covers.  She was self-aware and intelligent enough to know that revenge wouldn’t stop her dreams, nor would it lessen her grief.  But oh, the satisfaction.  Once Regina had Snow’s daughter, her grandson, her city, her kingdom, oh yes.  Even if it took a year, or ten years, to see Snow’s face twisted in rage – that was a goal she could get behind... in addition to coffee. Coffee was critical.

"Henry," she said on the short drive to school, glancing at her son. It was time to further her research. She sipped her coffee for fortification – black, no sugar. "When you and Emma are alone... what do you talk about?"

Henry peeled his face from the window where he'd been catching a last-minute nap. "Um," he said as he fiddled with the straps of the backpack in his lap. "How school's going. My friends. You. And..." His smile slipped. "Grandma and grandpa, I guess. We talk about a bunch of stuff."

Regina didn't miss the downward trajectory of her son's demeanor. She flicked on her turn signal as they approached an intersection. "You talk about grandma and grandpa?"

"Well, mainly grandma." Henry's face scrunched up. "They're um, not getting along so good."

"Oh?" Regina's voice lilted. _Yes, yes, yes._ "They're arguing? Is it about me?"

"Jeez, Mom, you don't need to look so thrilled about it," Henry said, although it was with a smirk so familiar Regina felt as though she were gazing into a mirror. "But yeah, a little about you. Mostly other stuff, though."

What else did Snow and her precious, Charming daughter possibly have to argue about? "Stuff? What other stuff?" she asked, baffled.

Henry shrugged, fidgeting with his seatbelt. "Emma probably wouldn't want me to say."

Curiosity sorely tempted Regina into insisting on an answer, until she was struck by the notion that Henry was leaps and bounds ahead of Snow in his secret-keeping abilities. A surge of pride welled up warm in her chest. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I wasn't trying to push you into revealing anything you shouldn't. I only – well, I'm just trying to get an idea – what does Emma like to talk about? What does she like _doing_?"

"Oh!" Henry chirped, comprehension dawning. "Uh, TV? We watch it a lot. And comics, she reads them with me. Oh, and she likes to talk about hypothetical fights, like who would win if like, Thor and the Hulk had a battle, you know? Most importantly, she likes eating."

"Really," she said with an eye roll as she turned into the school drop off zone. "Those all sound suspiciously like things my son Henry likes to do, rather than what Emma likes to do."

Well, except the eating part.

"Oh... yeah.  I guess... I don't really know what Emma likes?" Henry blinked.  He hugged his backpack to his chest, chewing on his lip contemplatively.

"Have a good day at school, dear," Regina sighed. She tussled his hair, knowing it embarrassed him but unable to help herself. "I love you."

Henry exited the car stonily. "Love you too," he said distantly, still consumed with his personal revelation.

Regina made the drive home and spent her early morning mentally organizing herself.  She spread wide the curtains in her home office, exposing the dusty stacks of long-abandoned mayoral paperwork to sunlight.  The plush office chair enveloped her as she sipped the remnants of her coffee, eyes hooding as she savored the stark flavor.  “Emma Swan,” she breathed the name.  Then she tried, “Emma Mills.”  The name made her veins thrum with magic.  There was nothing left for her to do but execute and adapt.

Henry's advice, though heartfelt, was of no help when it came to reeling in Emma Swan. The plan remained the same.

She chose her wardrobe carefully - a silk blouse with two - no, three - buttons sprung open, a sharply cut skirt that hugged her ass, and platform shoes that rose her to eye-level with the princess.

Strutting to the front door full of swagger, she paused by the ugly hole in her carpet.

Yesterday she had found herself pleased at the idea of leaving the mar on her home's beauty. This morning the hideous reminder of Snow White's apple-flavored token of peace triggered Regina's gag reflex. Summoning her magic, she flicked her wrist at the ugly hole to be rid of it.

The ugly hole remained.

"To hell with you," Regina told it, and slammed the door.

Once Upon a Time

"Beauty, Emma, beauty. Think about your love for beauty, put emotion into your magic, and your emotion will turn to change." The Blue Fairy's voice pitched in frustration as Regina strode into the convent gardens. Emma's face was hidden by a swathe of blonde, but the hunch in her shoulders told all the story that Regina needed.

The flowerpot on the ground was missing a flower.

"Emotion. Right," Emma grunted as Blue provided her with another pot. She sat cross-legged on the ground while the fairy circled her.

"First, think. Then feel. Then... magic." Blue fluttered her fingers in the air, in a spot-on impression of an absolute imbecile. "And voila!"

No wonder Emma was failing miserably, Regina concluded as she propped against a tree, arms crossed. The Blue Fairy was teaching Emma how a fairy performed magic. Unless Emma truly was the White Knight every citizen of Storybrook save Regina seemed to believe, this method would never work. Emma was far from perfect; Regina's investigations into her history had proven it long ago.

Emma chewed on her bottom lip. A swirl of heat lifted from the ground, eddies of power swirling around the gardens. The drooping flower in the pot perked, its wilting leaves lifting into the sun.

Rotten petals turned golden yellow and new blooms burst into creation bright and full, and even the Blue Fairy's mouth fell open.

"Well, well, Miss Swan," Regina breathed to herself. "Perhaps I --"

It burst into flame.

Regina cackled. Her laughter bounced off the trees, echoing through the courtyard, drawing the attention of one former fairy and a princess. Regina spared a smirk for Emma, who blushed but shrugged and offered a bashful smile back. The flame doubled in size.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Emma snatched a nearby watering can and poured it onto the flaming flora. The fire hissed and died instantly, but Blue's expression was nothing short of murderous.

Blue's fingers twitched, perhaps missing her old wand. "I don't recall inviting the evil queen to our practice sessions."

Emma straightened her shoulders, throwing Regina a look that she struggled to identify – lips upturned, like Regina was in on a joke. "I invited her. She's been helping me."

"And did she teach you this?" Blue thrust a finger at the ruins of the burnt-out pot. The flower smoldered beyond repair, a twisted black thing. It reminded Regina of the ugliness marring her foyer carpet. "My princess, that is the absolute wrong way to learn."

"Seriously? It's more than I could do before, isn't it?"

"Yes! Too much so, I would say. Magic is a slow process."

"I'm sorry, Blue. I was a little frustrated with it and I think that's what came out of me. Emotion, then magic, right? I'll try harder next time, okay? Promise."

"That is most certainly _not_ the issue," Blue blustered, frazzled hairs springing from her bun even as she patted it down. "Patience, serenity, measured and methodical determination of -"

"Perhaps," Regina interrupted with an eye roll to the heavens, "we can end this nonsense and Emma can continue her lessons permanently with me."

If Blue's righteous indignation went on any longer, Regina was going to set something ablaze herself.

"I – you - Emma, I would advise you emphatically no!"

"Uh," Emma said. She didn't continue, only crossed her arms, shooting a cautious look over her shoulder.

The cause for Emma's hesitation – Snow approaching with her palms up in a gesture of peace – greeted them with a smile too wide to be genuine. "Regina, I'm so glad to see you here. Emma tells me you've been helping her. Blue's been very helpful as well, although I'm afraid Emma's not making as much progress as she needs."

Regina thought Snow had put it quite delicately, but that didn't stop the fairy from puffing her chest. "It's not easy learning human magicks, much less teaching them, but despite the time I've devoted to her, the princess continues to struggle with basic concepts."

"I certainly don't blame you," Snow soothed. "I know you're doing your best."

"Hey!"

"And so are you, Emma. I didn't mean – oh, you know what I meant."

"In any case," Regina interrupted silkily, choosing to address Emma directly, "you seem to react well to my techniques, wouldn't you say?"

Emma rubbed her arm as Snow's wide smile turned brittle. "Might say that, yeah."

"Emma, I thought we agreed," said Snow through gritted teeth, "that you were going to continue to take lessons from both Blue and Regina."

"Snow, I must protest!"

"Blue, please!" Snow held out her hands. "Work with me. We can compromise on this, I promise. Here, let me help you clean this mess up."

"We did agree," Emma said with an air of finality as Snow dragged a broom from underneath a workbench. "I'm doing both. Neither are going to stop. It's no big deal."

Regina smirked as Blue's mouth pressed into a firm, hard line, but who nonetheless wordlessly summoned a dustpan and hunched over to assist in sweeping up the charred remnants of the pot.

Emma's look of relief was quickly overshadowed by something darker as her gaze lit on Regina's outfit. Regina inhaled to discretely push her chest out. "If you're done here, why don't we go make some magic of our own at your apartment like we planned?"

Emma rolled her eyes out of Snow's line of vision and jerked her head toward the car park. "Yeah, sure. I'll meet you there."

As Regina trailed the blonde, she chanced a look over her shoulder. Snow and Blue's heads were bent together as they whispered, broom and dustpan forgotten.

Once Upon a Time 

Emma fried fish. It tasted over-seasoned and over-buttered, but Emma seemed proud enough of it when she'd slid it sizzling from the pan, so she forwent any criticism.

They ate at a table surrounded by knick-knacks and pictures that reeked with the Charmings' familial love. Framed photos, mostly of Snow and David together but mixed and matched with Emma and Henry, stared Regina down as if the inanimate faces knew she didn't belong.

Regina's skirt rode up her thighs as she crossed them, the split in the side carving out a marvelous triangle of tanned skin for Emma's perusal. Emma didn't give it any more than a cursory glance as she doled out silverware, although she did bite her lower lip.

"So mother dearest is dead set on accepting our little union," Regina said, pushing the fillet on her plate, then abandoned it and gave the rice a taste. She wondered idly if Emma ever made vegetables with her main dish, or if that was too healthy an idea than her upbringing would allow.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"In regards to my personal satisfaction, yes. Yet if there is one lesson life has taught me, it's that you can't have everything."  She waved her hand, summoning two wine glasses and a bottle from her own kitchen. "Alas, I still enjoy your company." _Also, your political safety net, respected royal status, reputation, and relationship with my son. The list goes on, my dear._ "Snow White will continue her never-ending campaign to become my bosom-buddy and I, secure in the knowledge that deep down inside she loathes me with the fire of a thousand suns, will continue to resist the temptation to throttle her.”

Emma dragged a hand down her face. "Yeah, and Mother Superior is encouraging her. The Blue Fairy or whatever. It's a mess."

That detail hooked Regina's attention. "They've been working together?"

"Since we got back from Neverland they've been thick as thieves trying to pull this town back together. Fundraisers and community outreach, re-creating a new city council, all that crap. Not to mention the ongoing pity project that is me."

So Snow and Blue were bonding more so than was necessarily expected. Regina filed the information away in a mental drawer labeled 'distressing yet not pressing.' The idea joined other upsetting notions such as Henry getting a girlfriend and Emma's current ineptitude at popping the wine cork with a fork.

"Perhaps you should try a corkscrew, my dear?"

"Yeah, yeah," she said, before dragging herself to the kitchen as if Regina had requested some Herculean task. "Not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but you didn't have to conjure up drinks. I buy wine, you know."

"Hm." Regina cast a dubious glance toward the refrigerator. "Is it in a box, perchance?"

Emma rooted through a drawer, then another. "You're dating a box wine kinda girl, Regina," she said, and although her back was turned the smile was evident in her voice.

After a few more minutes of rummaging through every single drawer and cupboard in the apartment -- at least that was Regina's estimation – Emma slouched back over with a corkscrew in hand. Regina gracefully allowed Emma the work of decorking and pouring the wine.

The food disappeared quickly. Regina switched from wine to juice, but Emma kept their glasses full. Determined to prove her personal investment, Regina gritted her teeth into a smile and set to the grueling task of... chatting.

She paid attention. She nodded when Emma spoke. She carefully monitored her partner's expressions and body language, and offered insightful commentary. When required, she shared personal experiences relating to the topic at hand.

She also experienced the unnerving situation of having Emma's laser-like focus completely set on her.

After thirty minutes, it wasn't so bad. Regina had established a pattern that involved smiling, affirmative noises, and vaguely interactive dialogue. After an hour, her wittiness took a sharp decline. When the pair had finally settled into an impromptu magic lesson, her patience had nearly eroded.

She had set Emma to a simple color changing spell. Emma successfully turned a fork green, then back to silver, then back to green again.

"Not the most useful spell," Regina commented while rubbing her temples. "But at least it's something you can channel your energy into that isn't me."

"You haven't seen anything yet." Emma's tongue poked out of her lips as she glared at the green utensil. "Watch."

The fork, to Emma's alarm, flopped like a wet spaghetti noodle.

Regina barked a laugh. If she could count on anything to cheer her up, it was laughing at Emma Swan's expense. "I'm going to assume you aren't trying to invent a new type of pasta and venture that you didn't intend that. If you're going to use magic on anything, you must remove any magic first."

Emma dropped the floppy fork with a huff. "Blue never mentioned anything about that."

Regina wondered if it was possible to roll her eyes so hard they fell out of her head. "Because Blue has lived her entire blessed fairyhood using a wand and a wholly different set of rules. This is the reason you set an innocent flower on fire this morning, Emma. Rule two: _never mix magic."_

Emma gave a childish huff.  "Mix magic? I only know one spell, and that's disappearing things I don't like. I don't have enough magic to mix, Regina."

"Nonsense, you perked that little flower right up this morning. Didn't you see it? You were actually performing the beautification spell that winged menace has been beating into you all along." She was impressed, to be honest. Not that she planned on sharing that with Emma. "White magic. Very pure. Your baser self, however, won out and your magic decided to banish it."

"But there was already a spell on it," Emma said, following along. "And then, boom. Fire."

"Very good, Emma. Then boom, fire." Regina could feel a migraine paying her a visit in the not-too-distant future. " _Magic doesn't mix_. This is not to be taken lightly. The consequences are as unpredictable and wild as magic itself. You could have been turned into an elephant for all we know. Or blown up the convent, or worse," she stressed. "And what's the first rule?"

"Seriously?"

"The first rule, princess."

"Don't call me that." Emma crossed her arms while she searched nervously for on-lookers, of whom there were none in the empty apartment, then recited like a sullen schoolgirl, " _All magic goes somewhere_."

"Good girl." Regina gave her a pat on the knee, which unless she was mistaken caused a light dusting of pink across Emma's cheeks. _This is the perfect moment._ "It's getting late in the afternoon. Henry will be out of school soon."

Emma bit her lip, blush still fresh on her face. "Yeah. I'm taking swing shift at the station starting in an hour anyway."

Regina attempted to summon the steely resolve she'd been in possession of last night. She'd done well so far. Emma's eyes had certainly darted to her open blouse more than a few times today, and Regina had even shown interest in conversation. Mostly. Regardless, Emma seemed playful and pleased.

Even now, she was smiling at Regina. "So," Emma said, "Same time tomorrow? Magic lessons?"

"No, tomorrow's Saturday. Still, perhaps we could do something. You, Henry and I. You mentioned soccer practice at some point."

"Yeah," Emma's eyes lit up, "I'll call you, we'll figure something out. It'll be good for the kid."

In the spirit of experimentation, Regina crept her hand back to Emma's knee, only instead of patting, she rested it there. "Shall we consider this magic lesson concluded?" she said, unusually aware of the warmth of Emma's leg bleeding through the denim beneath her palm.

Sometimes it was all too easy to think of Emma Swan as cog-serial-number-3214 in her increasingly complex machinations for a somewhat happy ending. The warmth of Emma's body heat presented an ugly reminder that she was a thinking, breathing woman. One whose happiness had been treated as collateral damage more than once by the plans of one villain or the other. That included Regina's.

Regina pushed the thought out of her mind, wondering which mental drawer she'd be filing that under.

She squeezed the knee, rubbing circles with her thumb... In the continued interests of experimentation, of course. How far could she push it? Could she kiss Emma today? Could she sit in her lap? Undress her? Touch her? That's what would secure this relationship for her, would it not?

"Call it a day? Yeah. Yeah, sounds good. Oh, but hang on."

A hand slipped over Regina's and abruptly she was being tugged off the couch and pulled to the front of the oven. "Before you go, guess what I made _and_ didn't blow up?" said Emma, slipping a towel off a previously concealed baking pan. "Cupcakes! This one right here is calling your name." She picked out one with dark chocolate frosting. "It's got raspberries in it. I made this one specifically for you. Figure you must be sick of apples by now."

Emma kept their hands intertwined as they shared each other's space, like her knee had been a clever trap all along.

Regina accepted the treat and led Emma to the front door, holding the gift a little too tightly. "Henry will be needing a pick up soon, I really must go."

"Say hi to the kid for me. And that I'd be there if I could, but I'll gotta go, you know, do the sheriff thing.  Filling out forms, eating donuts.  Keeping this town from falling apart at the seams. It’s very important work."

She nodded in affirmation, stepping into Emma's personal space. "Of course." Although she'd awoken with the idea of sleeping with Emma fresh in her mind, time had flown by her. If she were being honest with herself, she'd avoided thinking about it. Now she had to leave to pick up Henry – but she could at least kiss Emma. Touch her sides, perhaps slip her tongue into her mouth, give Emma a taste of what could occur between them, and then... then, she would ask her to pay a visit to the mansion, after Henry was put to bed.

Tonight, under the cover of darkness, she would tighten her grip on the princess.

She looked at Emma's lips, wondering what they would taste like compared to the others she'd tried. It was time to find out. Emma caught her gaze, and suddenly the air between them was heavy with expectation.

She willed herself to lean in.

She didn't move. Emma's eyebrows furrowed, but then her smile quirked just a little bit wider.

_Kiss her_ , Regina demanded of herself imperiously, but it was too little, too late – Emma's hand ran up her shoulder and cradled her jaw, and then Regina was being kissed.

Regina stiffened from head to toe. _Kiss her_ , she ordered herself again as Emma's mouth pressed against hers insistently.

But she didn't. A memory was flooding through her, unbidden. Well, not so much as a memory as the pervading feeling she had experienced every time she'd been moved like a pawn in her mother's schemes: cheap and used... except this time, she was the user. She stood like a statue until Emma finally pulled away.

Emma's cheeks swirled red as she sputtered, embarrassed and, if Regina was reading her correctly, hurt. "Regina, I'm sorry, the way you were – I mean, I think I misread you."

Regina opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Her thought process ground to a halt. "I need to get Henry," she said, and promptly opened the door and took the steps down as fast as possible without actually running.

"Wait!" Emma called after her. Regina stumbled, cupcake tumbling from her grasp. It splattered icing-down on the cement.

"Curse it! I--" _Damn it._ No magic could reverse time.

"Hey, it's cool, it's fine," Emma rushed down the stairs. "I'll make you another one, okay?"

Regina nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"I just, I wanna apologize. I moved too fast, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Really."

Regina remembered her desperation last night, terrified at the idea of her plan falling apart due to Emma's loss of interest. Her resolve to reel in Emma in any way possible. How she'd undone three buttons.

Her thumb rubbing Emma's knee. Emma's blush. Emma's hopeful smile.

"You're forgiven," she managed to wring out. _Emma, you fool. You didn't misread me. You gave me exactly what I was demanding. I'm just a coward._ She had to fix this, before she caused irreparable damage. "I like you, Emma. I enjoy your company. This is just... new to me."

Emma stuffed her hands in her pockets. "I get it. Really."

"Thank you." She didn't know what else to say as she stood at the bottom of the stairs, avoiding Emma's annoyingly sympathetic gaze.

She felt dirty. She felt angry, such bursting hot anger that she thought it would burn her away. Anger at herself for feeling dirty, for falling into some puritanical cycle of guilt and woe-is-me nonsense.

She needed to get away. Clear her head. Refocus on the plan, on Henry and how much he needed both his mothers without the fear that a mob with torches would burn one of them at the stake.

"So... until next time?" Emma shuffled her feet, squinting in the direction of the setting sun. "There'll be a next time, right?"

Damn her guilt. She shoved it in another drawer, the one that had all the things she couldn't afford to give a shit about.

"Absolutely," she told Cog-Serial-Number-3214, who frowned and crossed her arms but nodded.

Regina got in her Mercedes, slammed the door and buckled her seat belt.  “Get over yourself,” she said, rubbing her eyes.  “Idiot.  Pathetic.”  She took off. 

That night she dreamt of her mother and the cold, quiet room.  She woke several times, shivering in the dark.  Eventually she noticed, to her ire, that the bedroom window had been left open.  She locked it shut.

Once Upon a Time

Saturday passed without Emma calling to schedule soccer practice or anything else. Regina avoided Granny's and the police station, although she was careful to speak positively about her relationship with Emma around Henry.

She wondered if Emma was feeling guilty, the idea of which she found unreasonably, horribly funny.

In between spending quality board game sessions with her son, she made time to glare at the ugly burn mark sitting idly in her foyer carpet. At one point she attempted to repair it again with magic, only for the blackened hole to double in size. In the end she threw her hands up in a huff and returned to Henry's side.

Thoughts of Emma haunted her frequently, which she made a point of shoving away like the plague. She was letting herself become weak. She would be strong.

It worked. Sort of.

Henry soundly defeated her in Monopoly – an act that made Regina proud, if not a little wary of her son's newfound enthusiasm for capitalism - and despite constant fleeting thoughts of Emma and her flash of hurt upon being rejected, she counted the day as a win.

Once Upon a Time

Sunday morning dawned bright and bursting with potential, which Regina was prepared to take full advantage of. No magic lessons, no Charmings, just Regina and Henry.

To be specific, Regina watched Henry watch _Adventure Time_. She didn't understand some of the jokes, but it was easy to laugh when Henry did. Watching TV with Henry was a joy all on its own, to Regina's wonder, no matter the flatulence jokes or other inanities.

She was doing just that when a cursed knocking drew her hand from Henry's hair. She wasn't even shocked when she opened the door to see Snow White's infernal person worrying on her doorstep.

"Is Emma here?"

Straight and to the point – Regina appreciated it. If only Snow could be so succinct in all their interactions. "No. Is that all?"

"Emma's not here?"

Regina's new-found appreciation dispersed like ashes in the wind. "Unless she has snuck past us in the previous five seconds, still no." Regina examined the nuisance closer. Snow's hair lay bedraggled on her head, and her clothes fared no better. A cold realization dawned on her that there was more to Snow's presence here than met the eye.

Snow leaned to peer over Regina's shoulder. "Emma?"

Regina adjusted the door to conceal the view of her inner sanctum, blocking the leftover gap with her body. Henry was close by watching cartoons, and it wouldn't do for him to get concerned about Emma's whereabouts. He had an illustrious past of sneaking out to complicate delicate situations further. "For the last time, she's not here. Keep your voice down. Tell me what's happened."

"It's Emma. She's..." Snow bit her lip, performing the mandatory hesitate-to-give-the-Evil-Queen-relevant-information pause.

"Missing," Regina surmised, scowling when Snow nodded in confirmation.

"She left shift early Friday night, seven o'clock. She told David she wasn't feeling well. David texted me and I brought over some soup around eight, but she didn't answer when I knocked. I thought maybe she was sleeping it off. Saturday went by and she didn't answer any of my calls."

She recalled tentative plans to practice soccer with Henry on Saturday, but Emma'd not contacted her about it or about anything, presumably to give Regina space after their... misunderstanding. Regina calculated quickly in her head. Miss Swan had last been seen almost 40 hours ago.

"Sunday? _Sunday morning_ is how long it takes you to decide to care that your daughter has vanished from the face of the earth?"

A horrifying number of possibilities ran through Regina's mind, from kidnapping to experiencing a debilitating magical surge alone somewhere, unable to call for aid.

"She didn't exactly part with David on the best of terms." Snow threw Regina a soulful look, rubbing her arms in a callback to Mary Margaret. "Sometimes she needs time to cool off. I thought I was giving it to her, being a good m– it was foolish." Snow glanced away. "And now, who knows what's happened to her."

Incompetence. Regina was drowning in it.

"Here's what will happen. You, my dear, will stay here and watch Henry, and say nothing to worry him in any way, shape or form. I'm going to use a tracking spell to find her. I'll call you when I know something."

Snow shook her head, a frown mouing her oval face. "Blue is already working on a tracking spell, Regina. If you want to help, David's organizing a search --"

"Henry!" Regina called over her shoulder. "I'm going out. Your beloved grandmother is here to watch you."

"Mom, I can watch myself," Henry called back, not deigning to move away from the television.

"Stay. Here. Not one word to him about this," Regina hissed at Snow, "not yet. And for your daughter's sake, that fairy's incompetence with human magic is not to be underestimated. I'm not making the mistake of relying on her, and neither should you."

Once Upon a Time 

The dirt path grew further and thinner behind her and the brush thickened, laden with thorns and mossy rocks that rolled under her heels.

Storybrook proper had disappeared from sight five minutes ago as Regina trundled through the forest following the pull of her tracking spell. With each further minute that passed, her fears of finding a body increased.

She rounded an outcropping of rocks, nearly missing the glimpse of blonde hair from between the dense wall of branches. "Emma?" she called. "Emma Swan, I hope you have a good – no." As she disentangled herself from a bush, she got a better look. Emma's body lie crumpled amongst the rocks.

"Emma?" She burst from the tree line, scrambling over the craggy landscape. She stumbled, recovered, then stumbled again. She kicked off her heels into a pile of leaves, ignoring the scrapes to her feet as she scrabbled over rocks and sticks toward the limp form.

No no no...

She practically fell onto Emma when she finally arrived, fingers immediately pressing onto her throat, searching for a pulse. She sagged in relief upon finding one. "Emma." Regina tentatively shook a shoulder, unwilling to move her further. Horror stories of neck injuries and permanent disabilities hovered in the back of her mind.

"Hnn..." Emma said. Her eyes cracked open, blinking at the unfiltered sunlight. "R'gina?" she slurred.

"Where are you hurt? Can you show me?"

"Freakin... cracked my head... I'm fine, I'm fine." She swatted Regina's searching hands away. "I can get up," she muttered into the ground. "Uh, probably."

Regina scanned the forest. Wind blew through the leaves causing acorns and twigs to tumble, but nothing else moved. "Were you attacked?"

"Where...?" Emma sat up gingerly, massaging her forehead. She frowned at her surroundings. "No. No attack," she said slowly. "I, uh… My magic was building up.  I went out to practice banishing. You know." She waved an arm weakly at their surroundings. "Weeds, bugs, that kind of shit. No one can get hurt out here. And I needed to think. Hard to do at the station."

"You needed to think," Regina repeated, making no effort to hide her pure disdain for the half-assed explanation. She ran her fingers in the hair behind Emma's head. Her fingers came back sticky and red. "And how exactly did you go from banishing and thinking to smacking your pretty little head into a rock? Do you realize it is _Sunday morning_ at this point?"

Emma offered a sheepish grin. "Will you accept general incompetence as an excuse?"

_From most, Emma. But most are not you._

Regina wasn't the least bit satisfied with that answer, but she put away her discontent for later. "If you can stand up, I can walk you to the hospital. You need a doctor to look you over."

"Stand up?" Emma squeezed her eyes shut and grit her teeth as if the act of thinking physically pained her. "I feel like if I stand up I'm either gonna puke or pass out. And if you poof me I'll probably do both. Can we just wait a minute? See if it passes?"

"If you swear to me the next time you want to practice or _space to think_ ," Regina tried to convey her utmost contempt at Emma's idiocy in those three words – based on Emma's flinch, it worked -- "you will retire to a location where your corpse can be located in a timely manner in the likely event that you perish as a result of your own ineptitude. Preferably without pulling me away from Sunday morning cartoons with Henry."

"Deal," Emma moaned, sinking back to the ground.

They fell into silence as Emma breathed rhythmically through her nose, supposedly wrestling control over her nausea. Regina wiped her bloody hand in a clump of leaves, but only succeeded in making it messier, a smear ending up on her white oxford blouse. She rubbed at it with her clean hand. The stain smudged to become even messier.

"You know," Emma said conversationally, her jaw clenched as she lay on the ground with her eyes closed to block the sun. Apparently that was a perfectly acceptable position to hold a conversation from in Emma Swan's book. "I dunno why I thought a nature walk was ever a good idea. I've never been much of a woodsy type. Not like Snow." She cracked an eye open, gauging Regina's expression. "Sorry, didn't mean to mention the current president of your fan club. I know it’s a sore topic."

"Oh, that'll pass, dear." Regina brought her knees to her chest, wondering where in the hell she had kicked off her heels. She couldn't see them from here. "She still thinks I'm a phase that you'll get over quickly enough. Believe me, she'll change her mind."

Birds chirped. A squirrel jumped between branches.

Emma slowly, sufferingly sat back up, and Regina stood to offer her arm. "Thank you." Emma blinked, looking up at her as if the circumstances of their impromptu forest meeting had only just hit her. "Thank you so much for finding me. For looking for me."

Regina muttered an acknowledgment as she assisted the savior in getting to her feet. Emma's weight pressed into her.

"I mean seriously, how long might I have been stuck out here? It's Sunday, right? I've been here since Friday night, drifting in and out of consciousness. I haven't spoken to anyone since... And it was..." Emma stumbled with her words, and in that moment Regina would have killed to know exactly what kind of argument would drive the Sheriff away from her family and into the pitch black woods on a Friday night.  "It was you who found me," Emma finished with a weak smile. "I owe you one."

Regina frowned, not able to identify the indefinable element that wasn't sitting well with her. It wasn't like she cared one way or the other about Snow and Charming’s lack of parenting abilities. If anything, tension between them made her work easier. "Hold on to me. And don't throw up," she said with a glare. She summoned her magic, preparing to transport them directly to the hospital --

"Emma!"

Sometimes Regina wanted to murder Snow with an axe. Violently and with fervor.

"Who the hell is watching my son?" Regina asked, and was promptly ignored.

"Emma!" Snow called as she trampled through the underbrush, the Blue Fairy scurrying in her wake. "Thank goodness, are you okay?"

"Are you injured, princess?" Blue asked, holding open a large, worn spell tomb Regina remembered seeing in Mr. Gold's pawn shop. It seemed Blue had finally decided to use actual educational sources in her foray into human magic.

"Snow, were you supposed to be watching Henry?" Emma – bless her – said from the midst of a bone-crushing hug. When Emma emerged from the hug, she was smiling. Regina hoped Snow has the common sense to not mention the fact that she'd only launched a search less than two hours ago.

Snow tenderly tucked a lock of Emma's hair behind her ear. "David's with him, don't worry. I'm just so glad you're safe. What happened?"

Emma reproduced the same story she fed Regina. She took a walk, she tripped, all was well. Snow neither questioned nor expressed doubt, merely saying, "Please tell someone where you're going next time."

Snow turned to Regina.  “Thank you so much for finding her, I can’t thank you enough.”  Blue sniffed at that, which Regina ignored, instead lasering a hug-me-and-die look toward Snow who was looking particularly huggy.

Regina observed with sharp eyes as Snow fussed over her daughter. Snow insisted on examining the wound herself, clucking like a hen. Emma amiably tolerated her, although there was something dull in her expression. Her smile didn't quite meet her eyes as Snow hugged her again – not the true smile that Regina was so accustomed to seeing on Emma's face.

Something was off.

There was very little Regina was certain of in this situation, with the exception of one thing.

_You're a liar, Emma Swan._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry 'bout the wait, work has kept me on the road kinda nonstop and I'm not a happy camper. The good news is that when I got back, I was able to look at the first draft of this chapter with fresh eyes and really pull it out of the gutter. Trust me, it was a sad, limp little thing and I'm grateful I didn't post it back then :D. I know I missed replying to a few people - thank you SO MUCH to everyone I didn't get around to responding to.
> 
> Also a plea for help... is Snow's husband called David or Charming? I'm so confused.


End file.
